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BLACK BEAUTY 


His Groom and Companions 


BY 

ANNA SEWELL 

H 


JllustratetJ bg 
WINIFRED AUSTIN 

AND 

H. TOASPERN, Jr. 


> > > 



BOSTON 

L. C. PAGE df COMPANY 

1902 







H 






• • 
• • 
• • • 




o 



> 

% 


^ CONTENTS 


PART I. 


CHAPTER 

I. 

My Early Home . 

• 



PAGE 

II 

II. 

The Hunt 




15 

III. 

My Breaking In . 




19 

IV. 

Birtwick Park 




25 

V. 

A Fair Start 




29 

VI. 

Liberty .... 




34 

VII. 

Ginger .... 




37 

VIII. 

Ginger’s Story Continued 




43 

IX. 

Merrylegs 




50 

X. 

A Talk in the Orchard 




54 

XL 

Plain Speaking 




62 

XII. 

A Stormy Day 




67 

XIII. 

The Devil’s Trade Mark 




72 

XIV. 

James Howard 




76 

XV. 

The Old Ostler . 




80 

XVI. 

The Fire 




84 

XVII. 

John Manly’s Talk 




90 

XVIII. 

Going for the Doctor 




95 

XIX. 

Only Ignorance . 




100 

XX. 

Joe Green 




103 

XXL 

The Parting . 

• 



107 


V 


vi 

Contents 






PART II. 





CHAPTER 

XXII. 

Earlshall 




Page 

1 1 1 

XXIII. 

A Strike for Liberty . 

. 

. 


II 7 

XXIV. 

The Lady Anne, or a Runaway Horse 

122 

XXV. 

Reuben Smith 


. 


130 

XXVI. 

How It Ended 

. 

. 


135 

XXVII. 

Ruined, and Going Down-Hill 

. 


139 

XXVIII. 

A Job Horse and His Drivers 

. 


143 

XXIX. 

Cockneys 

. 

. 


148 

XXX. 

A Thief .... 

. 

. 


156 

XXXI. 

A Humbug 

• 

• 


160 


PART III. 





XXXII. 

A Horse Fair 

, 



164 

XXXIII. 

A London Cab Horse . 

. 



169 

XXXIV. 

An Old War Horse 

. 



174 

XXXV. 

Jerry Barker 

. 



181 

XXXVI. 

The Sunday Cab . 

. 



189 

XXXVII. 

The Golden Rule 

. 



195 

XXXVIII. 

Dolly and a Real Gentleman 



200 

XXXIX. 

Seedy Sam 




206 

XL. 

Poor Ginger . 

• 



21 I 

XLI. 

The Butcher 

• 



214 

XLII. 

The Election 




218 

XLIII. 

A Friend in Need 




221 

XLIV. 

Old Captain and His Successor 


227 

XLV. 

Jerry’s New Year 

• 

• 


233 


PART IV. 





XLVI. 

Jakes and the Lady . 


* 


241 

XLVII. 

Hard Times . 

. 



246 

XLVIII. 

Farmer Thoroughgood 

AND 


His 



Grandson Willie . 


, 


252 

XLIX. 

My Last Home 

• 

• 

. 

258 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


Black Beauty 

“I RAN BY HER SIDE” 

“ A HARE WILD WITH FRIGHT RUSHED BY ” 

“There I stood snorting with astonishment and 

fear” . 

“‘What is your name?’” 

“ The next day I was brought up for my master ” 
“ Ginger and I were standing alone in the shade ” 

“ ‘ I LAID MY EARS BACK AND SNAPPED AT HIM ’ ” 

“ ‘ I LAID HIM ON THE GRASS ’ ” 

“ ‘ All right,’ said the other, and went up ” 

“ He gave me a pail full of water ” . 

“ With scarcely a pause Lizzie took the leap ” 

“ I could see Smith lying a few yards beyond 


PAGE y 

Frontispiece 

12 


ME 




“Who should come in but dear old Ginger” 
“There were a number of poor things, sadly 
broken down with hard work” 

“‘Alone on that great slaughter - ground ” 

“ He called me Old Crony ” . 

“‘Why, Beauty! Beauty! Do you know me?’” 

vii 


i 6 


22 

26 // 
30 

41 / 
52/ 
84/ 
98 f 
126 / 

133 / 

149 t/ 

164 

178 

256 1/ 
260 ty 


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BLACK BEAUTY. 


PART I. 

CHAPTER I. 

MY EARLY HOMS, 

T he first place that I can well remember, was a 
large pleasant meadow with a pond of clear 
water in it. Some shady trees leaned over it, 
and rushes and water-lilies grew at the deep end. 
Over the hedge on one side we looked into a ploughed 
field, and on the other we looked over a gate at our 
master’s house, which stood by the roadside ; at the 
top of the meadow was a plantation of fir trees, and 
at the bottom a running brook overhung by a steep 
bank. 

Whilst I was young I lived upon my mother’s 
milk, as I could not eat grass. In the day time I ran 
by her side, and at night I lay down close by her. 
When it was hot, we used to stand by the pond in the 
shade of the trees, and when it was cold, we had a 
nice warm shed near the plantatioa 


12 


Black Beauty, 


As soon as I was old enough to eat grass, my 
mother used to go out to work in the day time, and 
came back in the evening. 

There were six young colts in the meadow besides 
me ; they were older than I was ; some were nearly 
as large as grown-up horses. I used to run with 
them, and had great fun ; we used to gallop all to- 
gether round and round the field, as hard as we 
could go. Sometimes we had rather rough play, for 
they would frequently bite and kick as well as gallop. 

One day, when there was a good deal of kicking, 
my mother whinnied to me to come to her, and then 
she said, 

“ I wish you to pay attention to what I am going 
to say to you. The colts who live here are very 
good colts, but they are cart-horse colts, and, of 
course, they have not learned manners. You have 
been well bred and well born ; your father has a 
great name in these parts, and your grandfather won 
the cup two years at the Newmarket races ; your 
grandmother had the sweetest temper of any horse I 
ever knew, and I think you have never seen me kick 
or bite. I hope you will grow up gentle and good, 
and never learn bad ways ; do your work with a 
good will, lift your feet up well when you trot, and 
never bite or kick even in play.” 

I have never forgotten my mother’s advice ; I 
knew she was a wise old horse, and our master 
thought a great deal of her. Her name was Duchess, 
but he often called her Pet 



‘M RAN BY HER SIDE 








13 


My Early Home, 

Our master was a good, kind man. He gave us 
good food, good lodging, and kind words ; he spoke 
as kindly to us as he did to his little children. We 
were all fond of him, and my mother loved him ^ ery 
much. When she saw him at the gate, she would 
neigh with joy, and trot up to him. He would pat 
and stroke her and say, “ Well, old Pet, and how is 
your little Darkie ? ” I was a dull black, so he called 
me Darkie ; then he would give me a piece of bread, 
which was very good, and sometimes he brought a 
carrot for my mother. All the horses would come to 
him, but I think we were his favourites. My mother 
always took him to the town on a market day in a 
light gig. 

There was a ploughboy, Dick, who sometimes came 
into our field to pluck blackberries from the hedge. 
When he had eaten all he wanted, he would have, 
what he called, fun with the colts, throwing stones 
and sticks at them to make them gallop. We did 
not much mind him, for we could gallop off ; but 
sometimes a stone would hit and hurt us. 

One day he was at this game, and did not know 
that the master was in the next field ; but he was 
there, watching what was going on : over the hedge 
he jumped in a snap, and catching Dick by the arm, 
he gave him such a box on the ear as made him roar 
with the pain and surprise. As soon as we saw 
the master, we trotted up nearer to see what went 
on. 

“ Bad boy 1 ” he said, “ bad boy 1 to chase the 


14 


Black Beauty. 


colts. This is not the first time, nor the second, but 
it shall be the last — there — take your money and go 
home, I shall not want you on my farm again.” So 
we never saw Dick any more. Old Daniel, the man 
who looked after the horses, was just as gentle as our 
master, so we were well off 


t 


CHAPTER IL 

THE HUNT. 

B efore I was two years old, a circumstance 
happened which I have never forgotten. It 
was early in the spring ; there had been a 
little frost in the night, and a light mist still hung 
over the plantations and meadows. I and the other 
colts were feeding at the lower part of the field when 
we heard, quite in the distance, what sounded like the 
cry of dogs. The oldest of the colts raised his head, 
pricked his ears, and said, “ There are the hounds ! ” 
and immediately cantered off, followed by the rest of 
us to the upper part of the field, where we could look 
over the hedge and see several fields beyond. My 
mother, and an old riding horse of our master’s were 
also standing near, and seemed to know all about it. 

“ They have found a hare,” said my mother, “ and 
if they come this way, we shall see the hunt.” 

And soon the dogs were all tearing down the field 
of young wheat next to ours. I never heard such a 
noise as they made. They did not bark, nor howl, 
nor whine, but kept on a “ yo ! yo, o, o I yo I yo, o, o I " 


i6 


Black Beauty. 


at the top of their voices. After them came a 
number of men on horseback, some of them in green 
coats, all galloping as fast as they could. The old 
horse snorted and looked eagerly after them, and we 
young colts wanted to be galloping with them, but 
they were soon away into the fields lower down ; here 
it seemed as if they had come to a stand ; the dogs 
left off barking, and ran about every way with their 
noses to the ground. 

“They have lost the scent, said the old horse; 
“ perhaps the hare will get off.’* 

“ What hare ? ” I said. 

“ Oh ! I don’t know what hare ; likely enough it 
may be one of our own hares out of the plantation ; 
any hare they can find will do for the dogs and men 
to run after ; ” and before long the dogs began their 
“ yo ! yo, o, o ! ” again, and back they came altogether 
at full speed, making straight for our meadow at the 
part where the high bank and hedge overhang the 
brook. 

“ Now we shall see the hare,” said my mother ; and 
just then a hare wild with fright rushed by, and made 
for the plantation. On came the dogs, they burst 
over the bank, leapt the stream, and came dashing 
across the field, followed by the huntsmen. Six or 
eight men leaped their horses clean over, close upon 
the dogs. The hare tried to get through the fence ; 
it was too thick, and she turned sharp round to make 
for the road, but it was too late ; the dogs were upon 
her with their wild cries ; we heard one shriek, and 


The Hunt. 


17 


that was the end of her. One of the huntsmen rode 
up and whipped off the dogs, who would soon have 
torn her to pieces. He held her up by the leg torn 
and bleeding, and all the gentlemen seemed well 
pleased. 

As for me, I was so astonished that I did not at 
first see what was going on by the brook ; but when 
I did look, there was a sad sight ; two fine horses 
were down, one was struggling in the stream, and the 
other was groaning on the grass. One of the riders 
was getting out of the water covered with mud, the 
other lay quite still. 

“ His neck is broke,” said my mother. 

“ And serve him right too,” said one of the colts. 

I thought the same, but my mother did not join 
with us. 

“Well! no,” she said, “you must not say that ; 
but though I am an old horse, and have seen and 
heard a great deal, I never yet could make out why 
men are so fond of this sport ; they often hurt 
themselves, often spoil good horses, and tear up the 
fields, and all for a hare or a fox, or a stag, that they 
could get more easily some other way; but we are 
only horses, and don’t know.” 

Whilst my mother was saying this, we stood and 
looked on. Many of the riders had gone to the 
young man ; but my master, who had been watching 
what was going on, was the first to raise him. His 
head fell back and his arms hung down, and every 
one looked very serious. There was no noise now j 


i8 


Black Beauty. 


even the dogs were quiet, and seemed to know that 
something was wrong. They carried him to our 
master’s house. I heard afterwards that it was young 
George Gordon, the squire’s only son, a fine, tall 
young man, and the pride of his family. 

There was now riding off in all directions to the 
doctor’s, to the farrier’s, and no doubt to Squire 
Gordon’s, to let him know about his son. When Mr. 
Bond, the farrier, came to look at the black horse that 
lay groaning on the grass, he felt him all over, and 
shook his head ; one of his legs was broken. Then 
some one ran to our master’s house and came back 
with a gun ; presently there was a loud bang and a 
dreadful shriek, and then all was still; the black 
horse moved no more. 

My mother seemed much troubled ; she said she 
had known that horse for years, and that his name 
was “ Rob Roy ; ” he was a good bold horse, and 
there was no vice in him. She never would go to 
that part of the field afterwards. 

Not many days after, we heard the church bell 
tolling for a long time ; and looking over the gate we 
saw a long strange black coach that was covered with 
black cloth and was drawn by black horses ; after 
that came another and another and another, and all 
were black, while the bell kept tolling, tolling. They 
were carrying young Gordon to the churchyard to 
bury him. He would never ride again. What they 
did with Rob Roy I never knew ; but ’twas all for 
one little hare» 


CHAPTER III. 


MY BREAKING IN. 

I WAS now beginning to grow handsome; my 
coat had grown fine and soft, and was bright 
black. I had one white foot, and a pretty white 
star on my forehead. I was thought very handsome ; 
my master would not sell me till I was four years 
old ; he said lads ought not to work like men, and 
colts ought not to work like horses till they were 
quite grown up. 

When I was four years old. Squire Gordon came to 
look at me. He examined my eyes, my mouth, and 
my legs ; he felt them all down ; and then I had to 
walk and trot and gallop before him ; he seemed to 
like me, and said, “ When he has been well broken in, 
he will do very well.” My master said he would 
break me in himself, as he should not like me to be 
frightened or hurt, and he lost no time about it, for 
the next day he began. 

Every one may not know what breaking in is, 
therefore I will describe it. It means to teach a 
horse to wear a saddle and bridle and to carry on his 


20 


Black Beauty, 


back a man, woman, or child ; to go just the way 
they wish, and to go quietly. Besides this, he has to 
learn to wear a collar, a crupper, and a breeching, and 
to stand still whilst they are put on ; then to have a 
cart or a chaise fixed behind him, so that he cannot 
walk or trot without dragging it after him : and he 
must go fast or slow, just as his driver wishes. He 
must never start at what he sees, nor speak to other 
horses, nor bite, nor kick, nor have any will of his 
own ; but always do his master’s will, even though he 
may be very tired or hungry ; but the worst of all is, 
when his harness is once on, he may neither jump for 
joy nor lie down for weariness, So you see this 
breaking in is a great thing. 

I had of course long been used to a halter and a 
headstall, and to be led about in the field and lanes 
quietly, but now I was to have a bit and a bridle ; my 
master gave me some oats as usual, and after a good 
deal of coaxing, he got the bit into my mouth, and 
the bridle fixed, but it was a nasty thing ! Those 
who have never had a bit in their mouths cannot 
think how bad it feels; a great piece of cold hard 
steel as thick as a man’s finger to be pushed into 
one’s mouth, between one’s teeth and over one’s 
tongue, with the ends coming out at the corner of 
your mouth, and held fast there by straps over your 
head, under your throat, round your nose, and under 
your chin ; so that no way in the world can you get 
rid of the nasty hard thing ; it is very bad ! yes, very 
bad ! at least I thought so ; but I knew my mother 


My Breaking In, 


21 


always wore one when she went out, and all horses 
did when they were grown up ; and so, what with 
the nice oats, and what with my master’s pats, kind 
words, and gentle ways, I got to wear my bit and 
bridle. 

Next came the saddle, but that was not half so 
bad ; my master put it on my back very gently, 
whilst old Daniel held my head ; he then made the 
girths fast under my body, patting and talking to me 
all the time ; then I had a few oats, then a little 
leading about, and this he did every day till I began 
to look for the oats and the saddle. At length, one 
morning my master got on my back and rode me 
round the meadow on the soft grass. It certainly did 
feel queer ; but must say I felt rather proud to carry 
my master, and as he continued to ride me a little 
every day, I soon became accustomed to it. 

The next unpleasant business was putting on the 
iron shoes ; that too was very hard at first. My 
master went with me to the smith’s forge, to see that 
I was not hurt or got any fright. The blacksmith 
took my feet in his hand one after the other, and cut 
away some of the hoof It did not pain me, so I 
stood still on three legs till he had done them all. 
Then he took a piece of iron the shape of my foot, 
and clapped it on, and drove some nails through the 
shoe quite into my hoof, so that the shoe was firmly 
on. My feet felt very stiff and heavy, but in time I 
got used to it. 

And now having got so far, my master went on to 


22 


Black Beauty. 


break me to harness ; there were more new things to 
wear. First, a stifif heavy collar just on my neck, and 
a bridle with great side-pieces against my eyes called 
blinkers, and blinkers indeed they were, for I could 
not see on either side, but only straight in front of 
me ; next there was a small saddle with a nasty stiff 
strap that went right under my tail ; that was the 
crupper. I hated the crupper — to have my long tail 
doubled up and poked through that strap was almost 
as bad as the bit I never felt more like kicking, but 
of course I could not kick such a good master, and so 
in time I got used to every thing, and could do my 
work as well as my mother. 

I must not forget to mention one part of my 
training, which I have always considered a very 
great advantage. My master sent me for a fortnight 
to a neighbouring farmer’s, who had a meadow 
which was skirted on one side by the railway. Here 
were some sheep and cows, and I was turned in 
amongst them. 

I shall never forget the first train that ran by. I 
was feeding quietly near the pales which separated 
the meadow from the railway, when I heard a strange 
sound at a distance, and before I knew whence it 
came — with a rush and a clatter, and a puffing out of 
smoke — a long black train of something flew by, and 
was gone almost before I could draw my breath. I 
turned, and galloped to the further side of the 
meadow as fast as I could go, and there I stood 
snorting with astonishment and fear. In the course 



“THERE I STOOD SNORTING WITH ASTONISHMENT AND FEAR.” 





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23 


My Breaking In, 

of the day many other trains went by, some more 
slowly ; these drew up at the station close by, and 
sometimes made an awful shriek and groan before 
they stopped. I thought it very dreadful, but the 
cows went on eating very quietly, and hardly raised 
their heads as the black frightful thing came puffing 
and grinding past 

For the first few days I could not feed in peace ; 
but as I found that this terrible creature never came 
into the field, or did me any harm, I began to 
disregard it, and very soon I cared as little about the 
passing of a train as the cows and sheep did. 

Since then I have seen many horses much alarmed 
and restive at the sight or sound of a steam engine ; 
but thanks to my good master’s care, I am as fearless 
at railway stations as in my own stable. 

Now if any one wants to break in a young horse 
well, that is the way. 

My master often drove me in double harness with 
my mother, because she was steady, and could teach 
me how to go better than a strange horse. She told 
me the better I behaved, the better I should be 
treated, and that it was wisest always to do my best 
to please my master ; “ but,” said she, “ there are a 
great many kinds of men ; there are good, thoughtful 
men like our master, that any horse may be proud to 
serve ; but there are bad, cruel men, who never 
ought to have a horse or dog to call their own. 
Beside, there are a great many foolish men, vain, 
ignorant, and careless, who never trouble themselves 


24 


Black Beauty. 


to think ; these spoil more horses than all, just for 
want of sense ; they don’t mean it, but they do it 
for all that. I hope you will fall into good hands ; 
but a horse never knows who may buy him, or who 
may drive him ; it is all a chance for us, but still I 
say, do your best wherever it is, and keep up your 
good name.” 


CHAPTER IV. 


BIRTWICK PARK* 

A t this time I used to stand in the stable, and my 
coat was brushed every day till it shone like 
a rook’s wing. It was early in May, when 
there came a man from Squire Gordon’s, who took 
me away to the Hall. My master said, “ Good-bye, 
Darkie ; be a good horse, and always do your best.” 
I could not say “ good bye,” so I put my nose into 
his hand ; he patted me kindly, and I left my first 
home. As I lived some years with Squire Gordon, I 
may as well tell something about the place. 

Squire Gordon’s Park skirted the village of Birtwick. 
It was entered by a large iron gate, at which stood 
the first lodge, and then you trotted along on a 
smooth road between clumps of large old trees ; then 
another lodge and another gate, which brought you 
to the house and the gardens. Beyond this lay the 
home paddock, the old orchard, and the stables. 
There was accommodation for many horses and 
carriages ; but I need only describe the stable into 
which I was taken ; this was very roomy, with four 


26 


Black Beauty. 

good stalls ; a large swinging window opened into the 
yard, which made it pleasant and airy. 

The first stall was a large square one, shut in 
behind with a wooden gate ; the others were common 
stalls, good stalls, but not nearly so large ; it had a 
low rack for hay and a low manger for corn ; it was 
called a loose box, because the horse that was put 
into it was not tied up, but left loose, to do as he 
liked. It is a great thing to have a loose box. 

Into this fine box the groom put me ; it was clean, 
sweet, and airy. I never was in a better box than 
that, and the sides were not so high but that I could 
see all that went on through the iron rails that were 
at the top. 

He gave me some very nice oats, he patted me, 
spoke kindly, and then went away. 

When I had eaten my corn, I looked round. In 
the stall next to mine, stood a little fat grey pony, 
with a thick mane and tail, a very pretty head, and a 
pert little nose. 

I put my head up to the iron rails at the top of 
my box, and said, “ How do you do ? what is your 
name ? ” 

He turned round as far as his halter would allow, 
held up his head, and said, “ My name is Merrylegs : 
I am very handsome, I carry the young ladies on my 
back, and sometimes I take our mistress out in the 
low chair. They think a great deal of me, and so 
does James. Are you going to live next door to me 
in the box ? ” 





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Birtwick Park. 


27 


I said “Yes.” 

“Well then,” he said, “I hope you are good- 
tempered ; I do not like any one next door who 
bites.” 

Just then a horse’s head looked over from the stall 
beyond ; the ears were laid back, and the eye looked 
rather ill-tempered. This was a tall chestnut mare, 
with a long handsome neck ; she looked across to me 
and said, 

“ So it is you who have turned me out of my box ; 
it is a very strange thing for a colt like you, to come 
and turn a lady out of her own home.” 

“ I beg your pardon,” I said, “ I have turned no one 
out ; the man who brought me put me here, and I 
had nothing to do with it ; and as to my being a colt, 
I am turned four years old, and am a grown-up 
horse : I never had words yet with horse or mare, and 
it is my wish to live at peace.” 

“ Well,” she said, “ we shall see ; of course I do not 
want to have words with a young thing like you.” I 
said no more. 

In the afternoon when she went out, Merrylegs 
told me all about it. 

“ The thing is this,” said Merrylegs, “ Ginger has a 
bad habit of biting and snapping ; that is why they 
call her Ginger, and when she was in the loose box, 
she used to snap very much. One day she bit James 
in the arm and made it bleed, and so Miss Flora and 
Miss Jessie, who are very fond of me, were afraid to 
come into the stable. They used to bring me nice 


4 


28 


Black Beauty^ 


things to eat, an apple or a carrot, or a piece of bread, 
but after Ginger stood in that box, they dare not 
come, and I missed them very much. I hope they 
will now come again, if you do not bite or snap.” 

I told him I never bit anything but grass, hay, and 
corn, and could not think what pleasure Ginger found 
it. 

“ Well, I don’t think she does find pleasure,” says 
Merry legs ; “it is just a bad habit ; she says no one 
was ever kind to her, and why should she not bite ? 
Of course it is a very bad habit ; but I am sure, if all 
she says be true, she must have been very ill-used 
before she came here. John does all he can to please 
her, and James does all he can, and our master never 
uses a whip if a horse acts right ; so I think she 
might be good-tempered here ; you see,” he said with 
a wise look, “ I am twelve years old ; I know a great 
deal, and I can tell you there is not a better place for 
a horse all round the country than this. John is the 
best groom that ever was, he has been here fourteen 
years ; and you never saw such a kind boy as James 
is, so that it is all Ginger’s own fault that she did not 
stay in that box.” 


CHAPTER V. 


A FAIR START. 

T he name of the coachman was John Manly; 
he had a wife and one little child, and they 
lived in the coachman’s cottage, very near the 

stables. 

The next morning he took me into the yard and 
gave me a good grooming, and just as I was going 
into my box with my coat soft and bright, the Squire 
came in to look at me, and seemed pleased. “John,” 
he said, “ I meant to have tried the new horse this 
morning, but I have other business. You may as 
well take him a round after breakfast ; go by the 
common and the Highwood, and back by the water- 
mill and the river ; that will shew his paces.” 

“ I will, sir,” said John. After breakfast he came 
and fitted me with a bridle. He was very particular 
in letting out and taking in the straps, to fit my head 
comfortably ; then he brought the saddle, that was 
not broad enough for my back ; he saw it in a minute 
and went for another, which fitted nicely. He rode 
me first slowly, then a trot, then a canter, and when 


30 


Black Beauty, 


we were on the common he gave me a light touch 
with his whip, and we had a splendid gallop. 

“ Ho ho ! my boy,” he said, as he pulled me up, 
“ you would like to follow the hounds, I think.” 

As we came back through the Park we met the 
Squire and Mrs. Gordon walking ; they stopped, and 
John jumped off. 

“ Well, John, how does he go ? ” 

“First-rate, sir,” answered John, “he is as fleet as a 
deer, and has a fine spirit too ; but the lightest touch 
of the rein will guide him. Down at the end of the 
common we met one of those travelling carts hung 
all over with baskets, rugs, and such like ; you know, 
sir, many horses will not pass those carts quietly ; he 
just took a good look at it, and then went on as quiet 
and pleasant as could be. They were shooting rabbits 
near the Highwood, and a gun went off close by ; he 
pulled up a little and looked, but did not stir a step 
to right or left. I just held the rein steady and did 
not hurry him, and it’s my opinion he has not been 
frightened or ill-used while he was young.” 

“ That’s well,” said the Squire, “ I will try him my- 
self to-morrow.” 

The next day I was brought up for my master. I 
remembered my mother’s counsel and my good old 
master’s, and I tried to do exactly what he wanted 
me to do. I found he was a very good rider, and 
thoughtful for his horse too. When we came home, 
the lady was at the hall door as he rode up. 

“ Well, my dear,” she said, “ how do you like him ? ” 



“THE NEXT DAY I WAS BROUGHT UP FOR MY MASTER.’’ 



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31 


“He is exactly what John said,” he replied; “a 
pleasanter creature I never wish to mount. What 
shall we call him ? ” 

“Would you like Ebony?” said she, “he is as black 
as ebony.” 

“ No, not Ebony.” 

“Will you call him Blackbird, like your uncle’s old 
horse ? ” 

“No, he is far handsomer than old Blackbird ever 
was.” 

“Yes,” she said, “he is really quite a beauty, and 
he has such a sweet good-tempered face -and such a 
fine intelligent eye — what do you say to calling him 
Black Beauty?” 

“ Black Beauty — why, yes, I think that is a very 
good name. If you like, it shall be his name,” and 
so it was. 

When John went into the stable, he told James 
that master and mistress had chosen a good sensible 
English name for me, that meant something, not 
like Marengo, or Pegasus, or Abdallah. They both 
laughed, and James said, “If it was not for bringing 
back the past, I should have named him Rob Roy, 
for I never saw two horses more alike.” 

“That’s no wonder,” said John, “didn’t you know 
that farmer Grey’s old Duchess was the mother of 
them both?” 

I had never heard that before, and so poor Rob Roy 
who was killed at that hunt was my brother ! I did 
not wonder that my mother was so troubled. It 


32 


Black. Beauty, 


seems that horses have no relations ; at least, they 
never know each other after they are sold. 

John seemed very proud of me : he used to make 
my mane and tail almost as smooth as a lady’s hair, 
and he would talk to me a gfreat deal ; of course I 
did not understand all he said, but I learned more 
and more to know wliat he meant ^ and what he 
wanted me to do. I grew very fond of him, he was 
so gentle and kind, he seemed to know just how a 
horse feels, and when he cleaned me, he knew the 
tender places, and the ticklish places ; when he 
brushed my head, he went as carefully over my eyes 
as if they were his own, and never stirred up any 
ill-temper. 

James Howard, the stable boy, was just as gentle 
and pleasant in his way, so I thought myself well off. 
There was another man who helped in the yard, but 
he had very little to do with Ginger and me. 

A few days after this I had to go out with Ginger 
in the carriage. I wondered how we should get on 
together ; but except laying her ears back when I 
was led up to her, she behaved very well. She did 
her work honestly, and did her full share, and I never 
wish to have a better partner in double harness. 
When we came to a hill, instead of slackening her 
pace, she would throw her weight right into the collar, 
and pull away straight up. We had both the same 
sort of courage af our work, and John had oftener to 
hold us in, than to urge us forward ; he never had to 
use the whip with either of us ; then our paces were 


A Fair Start, 


33 


much the same, and I found it very easy to keep step 
with her when trotting, which made it pleasant, and 
master always liked it when we kept step well, and so 
did John. After we had been out two or three times 
together we grew quite friendly and sociable, which 
made me feel very much at home. 

As for Merrylegs, he and I soon became great 
friends ; he was such a cheerful, plucky, good- 
tempered little fellow, that he was a favourite with 
every one, and especially with Miss Jessie and Flora, 
who used to ride him about in the orchard, and have 
fine games with him and their little dog Frisky. 

Our master had two other horses that stood in 
another stable. One was Justice, a roan cob, used 
for riding, or for the luggage cart ; the other was an 
old brown hunter, named Sir Oliver ; he was past 
work now, but was a great favourite with the master, 
who gave him the run of the park ; he sometimes did 
a little light carting on the estate, or carried one of 
the young ladies when they rode out with their father; 
for he was very gentle, and could be trusted with a 
child as well as Merrylegs. The cob was a strong, 
well-made, good-tempered horse, and we sometimes 
had a little chat in the paddock, but of course I could 
not be so intimate with him as with Ginger, who stood 
in the same stable; 


CHAPTER VL 


LIBERTY^ 

I WAS quite happy in my new place, and if there 
was one thing that I missed, it must not be 
thought I was discontented ; all who had to do 
with me were good, and I had a light airy stable and 
the best of food. What more could I want? Why, 
liberty ! For three years and a half of rny life I had 
had all the liberty I could wish for ; but now, week 
after week, month after month, and no doubt year 
after year, I must stand up in a stable night and day 
except when I am wanted, and then I must be just as 
steady and quiet as any old horse who has worked 
twenty years. Straps here and straps there, a bit in 
my mouth, and blinkers over my eyes. Now, I am 
not complaining, for I know it must be so. I only 
mean to say that for a young horse full of strength 
and spirits who has been used to some large field 
or plain, where he can fling up his head, and toss 
up his tail and gallop away at full speed, then round 
and back again with a snort to his companions — I 
say it is hard never to have a bit more liberty to 


35 


Liberty, 

do as you like. Sometimes, when I have had less 
exercise than usual, I have felt so full of life and 
spring, that when John has taken me out to exercise, 
I really could not keep quiet ; do what I would, it 
seemed as if I must jump, or dance, or prance, and 
many a good shake I know I must have given him, 
specially at the first ; but he was always good and 
patient. 

“ Steady^ steady, my boy,” he would say ; “ wait a 
bit, and we’ll have a good swing, and soon get the 
tickle out of your feet” Then as soon as we were 
out of the village, he would give me a few miles at a 
spanking trot, and then bring me back as fresh as 
before, only clear of the fidgets, as he called them. 
Spirited horses, when not enough exercised, are often 
called skittish, when it is only play; and some grooms 
will punish them, but our John did not, he knew it 
was only high spirits. Still, he had his own ways of 
making me understand by the tone of his voice or 
the touch of the rein. If he was very serious and 
quite determined, I always knew it by his voice, and 
that had more power with me than anything else, for 
I was very fond of him. 

I ought to say, that sometimes we had our liberty 
for a few hours ; this used to be on fine Sundays in 
the summer-time. The carriage never went out on 
Sundays, because the church was not far off. 

It was a great treat to us to be turned out into the 
Home Paddock or the old orchard. The grass was 
so cool and soft to our feet ; the air so sweet, and the 


3 ^ 


Black Beauty, 


freedom to do as we liked was so pleasant ; to gallop 
to lie down, and roll over on our backs, or to nibble 
the sweet grass. Then it was a very good time for 
talking, as we stood together under the shade of the 
large chestnut tree. 



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CHAPTER VII. 


GINGER. 

O NE day when Ginger and I were standing alone 
in the shade we had a great deal of talk ; "she 
wanted to know all about my bringing up and 
breaking in, and I told her. 

“Well,” said she, “if I had had your bringing up I 
might have been as good a temper as you are, but 
now I don’t believe I ever shall.” 

“ Why not ? ” I said. 

“ Because it has been all so different with me,” she 
replied ; “ I never had any one, horse or man, that 
was kind to me, or that I cared to please, for in the 
first place I was taken from my mother as soon as I 
was weaned, and put with a lot of other young colts : 
none of them cared for me, and I cared for none of 
them. There was no kind master like yours to look 
after me, and talk to me, and bring me nice things to 
eat. The man that had the care of us never gave me 
a kind word in my life. I do not mean that he ill- 
used me, but he did not care for us one bit further 
than to see that we had plenty to eat and shelter in 


38 


Black Beauty, 


the winter. A footpath ran through our field, and 
very often the great boys passing through, would 
fling stones to make us gallop. I was never hit, but 
one fine young colt was badly cut in the face, and I 
should think it would be a scar for life. We did not 
care for them, but of course it made us more wild, 
arid we settled it in our minds that boys were our 
enemies. We had very good fun in the free meadows, 
galloping up and down and chasing each other round 
and round the field ; then standing still under the 
shade of the trees. But when it came to breaking in, 
that was a bad time for me ; several men came to 
catch me, and when at last they closed me in at one 
corner of the field, one caught me by the forelock, 
another caught me by the nose, and held it so tight I 
could hardly draw my breath ; then another took my 
under jaw in his hard hand and wrenched my mouth 
open, and so by force they got on the halter and the 
bar into my mouth ; .then one dragged me along by 
the halter, another flogging behind, and this was the 
first experience I had of men’s kindness, it was all 
force ; they did not give me a chance to know what 
they wanted. I was high bred and had a great deal 
of spirit, and was very wild, no doubt, and gave them 
I daresay plenty of trouble, but then it was dreadful 
to be shut up in a stall day after day instead of having 
my liberty, and I fretted and pined and wanted to get 
loose. You know yourself, it’s bad enough when you 
have a kind master and plenty of coaxing, but there 
was nothing of that sort for me. 


39 


Ginger. 

“ There was one — the old master, Mr. Ryder, who I 
think could soon have brought me round, and could 
have done anything with me, but he had given up all 
the hard part of the trade to his son and to another 
experienced man, and he only came at times to over- 
see. His son was a strong, tall, bold man ; they 
called him Samson, and he used to boast that he had 
never found a horse that could throw him. There 
was no gentleness in him as there was in his father, 
but only hardness, a hard voice, a hard eye, a hard 
hand, and I felt from the first that what he waftted 
was to wear all the spirit out of me, and just make me 
into a quiet, humble, obedient piece of horse-flesh. 
‘Horse-flesh!* Yes, that is all that he thought about,’* 
and Ginger stamped her foot as if the very thought 
of him made her angry. And she went on : “If I 
did not do exactly what he wanted, he would get put 
out, and make me run round with that long rein in 
the training field till he had tired me out. I think he 
drank a good deal, and I am quite sure that the 
oftener he drank the worse it was for me. One day 
he had worked me hard in every way he could, and 
when I laid down I was tired and miserable, and 
angry ; it all seemed so hard. The next morning he 
came for me early, and ran me round again for a long 
time. I had scarcely had an hour’s rest, when he 
came again for me with a saddle and bridle and a 
new kind of bit. I could never quite tell how it came 
about; he had only just mounted me on the training 
ground, when something I did put him out of temper, 


40 BlacTc Beauty, 

and he chucked me hard with the rein. The new bit 
was very painful, and I reared up suddenly, which 
angered him still more, and he began to flog me. I 
felt my whole spirit set against him, and I began to 
kick, and plunge, and rear as I had never done before, 
and we had a regular fight : for a long time he stuck 
to the saddle and punished me cruelly with his whip 
and spurs, but my blood was thoroughly up, and I 
cared for nothing he could do if only I could get him 
off. At last, after a terrible struggle, I threw him off 
backwards. I heard him fall heavily on the turf, and 
without looking behind me, I galloped off to the other 
end of the field ; there I turned round and saw my 
persecutor slowly rising from the ground and going 
into the stable. I stood under an oak tree and 
watched, but no one came to catch me. The time 
went on, the sun was very hot, the flies swarmed 
round me, and settled on my bleeding flanks where 
the spurs had dug in. I felt hungry, for I had not 
eaten since the early morning, but there was not 
enough grass in that meadow for a goose to live on. 
I wanted to lie down and rest, but with the saddle 
strapped tightly on, there was no comfort, and there 
was not a drop of water to drink. The afternoon 
wore on, and the sun got low. I saw the other colts 
led in, and I knew they were having a good feed, 

“At last, just as the sun went down, I saw the old 
master come out with a sieve in his hand. He was a 
very fine old gentleman with quite white hair, but his 
voice was what 1 should know him by amongst a 



“‘I LAID MY EARS BACK AND SNAPPED AT HIM/” 

d 





Cringer. 


41 


thousand. It was not high, nor yet low, but full, and 
clear, and kind, and when he gave orders it was so 
steady and decided, that everyone knew, both horses 
and men, that he expected to be obeyed. He came 
quietly along, now and then shaking the oats about 
that he had in the sieve, and speaking cheerfully and 
gently to me, ‘ Come along, lassie, come along, lassie ; 
come along, come along.’ I stood still and let him 
come up ; he held the oats to me and I began to eat 
without fear ; his voice took all my fear away. He 
stood by, patting and stroking me whilst I was eating, 
and seeing the clots of blood on my side he seemed 
very vexed ; ‘ Poor lassie ! it was a bad business, a 
bad business ! ’ then he quietly took the rein and led 
me to the stable ; just at the door stood Samson. I 
laid my ears back and snapped at him. ‘ Stand back,’ 
said the master, ‘ and keep out of her way ; you’ve 
done a bad day’s work for this filly.* He growled out 
something about a vicious brute. ‘ Hark ye,’ said the 
father, ‘ a bad-tempered man will never make a good- 
tempered horse. You’ve not learned your trade yet, 
Samson.’ Then he led me into my box, took off the 
saddle and bridle with his own hands and tied me up ; 
then he called for a pail of warm water and a sponge, 
took off his coat, and while the stable man held the 
pail, he sponged my sides a good while so tenderly 
that I was sure he knew how -sore and bruised they 
were. ‘ Whoa ! my pretty one,’ he said, ‘ stand still, 
stand still.’ His very voice did me good, and the 
bathing was very comfortable. The skin was so 


42 


Black Beauty. 


broken at the corners of my mouth that I could not 
eat the hay, the stalks hurt me. He looked closely 
at it, shook his head, and told the man to fetch a good 
bran mash and put some meal into it. How good 
that mash was ! and so soft and healing to my mouth. 
He stood by all the time I was eating, stroking me 
and talking to the man. ‘ If a high-mettled creature 
like this,’ said he, ‘ can’t be broken in by fair means, 
she will never be good for anything.* 

“ After that he often came to see me, and when my 
mouth was healed, the other breaker. Job, they called 
him, went on training me ; he was steady and thought- 
ful, and I soon learned what he wanted.** 


CHAPTER VIII. 


GINGERS S STORY CONTINUED^ ^ 

T he next time that Ginger and I were together 
in the paddock, she told me about her first 
place. 

“ After my breaking in,” she said, “ I was bought 
by a dealer to match another chestnut horse. For 
some weeks he drove us together, and then we were 
sold to a fashionable gentleman, and were sent up to 
London. I had been driven with a bearing rein by 
the dealer, and I hated it worse than anything else ; 
but in this place we were reined far tighter; the 
coachman and his master thinking we looked more 
stylish so. We were often driven about in the Park 
and other fashionable places. You who never had a 
bearing rein on, don’t know what it is, but I can tell 
you it is dreadful. 

“ I like to toss my head about, and hold it as high 
as any horse ; but fancy now yourself, if you tossed 
your head up high and were obliged to hold it there, 
and that for hours together, not able to move it at all, 
except with a jerk still higher, your neck aching till 


44 


Black Beauty, 

you did not know how to bear it. Beside that, to have 
two bits instead of one ; and mine was a sharp one, 
it hurt my tongue and my jaw, and the blood from 
my tongue coloured the froth that kept flying from 



WITH BEARING REIN. 

my lips, as I chafed and fretted at the bits and rein ; 
it was worst when we had to stand by the hour 
waiting for our mistress at some grand party or 
entertainment; and if I. fretted or stamped with 
impatience the whip was laid on. It was enough to 
drive one mad.” 


Gingers Story Continued* 45 

“ Did not your master take any thought for you ? ” 
1 said. 

“No,” said she, “he only cared to have a stylish 
turn-out, as they call it ; I think he knew very little 
about horses, he left that to his coachman, who told 



WITHOUT BEARING REIN. 


him I was an irritable temper ; that I had not been 
well broken to the bearing rein, but I should soon get 
used to it ; but he was not the man to do it, for when' 
I was in the stable, miserable and angry, instead of 
being soothed and quieted by kindness, I got only a 
surly word or a blow. If he had been civil, I would 
have tried to bear it 1 was willing to work, and 


46 


Black Beauty. 


ready to work hard too ; but to be tormented for 
nothing but their fancies angered me. What right 
had they to make me suffer like that ? Besides the 
soreness in my mouth and the pain in my neck, it 
always made my windpipe feel bad, and if I had 
stopped there long, I know it would have spoiled 
my breathing ; but I grew more and more restless 
and irritable, I could not help it ; and I began to 
snap and kick when any one came to harness me ; for 
this the groom beat me, and one day, as they had 
just buckled us into the carriage, and were straining 
my head up with that rein, I began to plunge and 
kick with all my might I soon broke a lot of 
harness, and kicked myself clear ; so that was an end 
of that place. 

“ After this, I was sent to Tattersall’s to be sold ; 
of course I could not be warranted free from vice, 
so nothing was said about that My handsome 
appearance and good paces soon brought a gentleman 
to bid for me, and I was bought by another dealer ; 
he tried me in all kinds of ways and with different 
bits, and soon found out what I could bear. At last 
he drove me quite without a bearing rein, and then 
sold me as a perfectly quiet horse to a gentleman in 
the country ; he was a good master, and I was 
getting on very well, but his old groom left him and 
a new one came. This man was as hard-tempered 
and hard-handed as Samson ; he always spoke in a 
rough, impatient voice, and if I did not move in the 
stall the moment he wanted me, he would hit m^ 


Ginger's Story Continued. 47 

above the hocks with his stable broom or the fork, 
whichever he might have in his hand Every thing 
he did was rough, and I began to hate him ; he 
wanted to make me afraid of him, but I was too 
high-mettled for that ; and one day when he had 
aggravated me more than usual, I bit him, which of 
course put him in a great rage, and he began to hit 
me about the head with a riding whip. After that, 
he never dared to come into my stall again, either 
my heels or my teeth were ready for him, and he 
knew it I was quite quiet with my master, but of 
course he listened to what the man said, and so I was 
sold again. 

“ The same dealer heard of me, and said he thought 
he knew one place where I should do well. "Twas a 
pity,’ he said, ‘ that such a fine horse should go to the 
bad, for want of a real good chance,’ and the end of 
it was that I came here not long before you did ; 
but I had then made up my mind, that men were my 
natural enemies, and that I must defend myself. 
Of course it is very different here, but who knows 
how long it will last? I wish I could think about 
things as you do ; but I can’t after all I have gone 
through.” 

“ Well,” I said, “ I think it would be a real 
shame if you were to bite or kick John or 
James.” 

“ I don’t mean to,” she said, “ while they are good 
to me. I did bite James once pretty sharp, but 
John said, ‘Try her with kindness,’ and instead of 


48 


Black Beauty. 


punishing me as I expected, James came to me with 
his arm bound up, and brought me a bran mash and 
stroked me ; and I have never snapped at him since, 
and I won^t either.’* 

I was sorry for Ginger, but of course I knew very 
little then, and I thought most likely she made the 
worst of it ; however, I found that as the weeks went 
on, she grew much more gentle and cheerful, and had 
lost the watchful, defiant look that she used to turn 
on any strange person who came near her ; and one 
day James said, “ I do believe that mare is getting 
fond of me, she quite whinnied after me this morning 
when I had been rubbing her forehead” 

“Aye, aye, Jim, ’tis the Birtwick balls,” said John, 
“ she’ll be as good as Black Beauty by and bye ; 
kindness is all the physic she wants, poor thing ! ” 
Master noticed the change too, and one day when he 
got out of the carriage and came to speak to us as he 
often did, he stroked her beautiful neck, “ Well, my 
pretty one, well, how do things go with you now? 
you are a good bit happier than when you came to 
us, I think.” 

She put her nose up to him in a friendly, trustful 
way, while he rubbed it gently. 

“ We shall make a cure of her, John,” he said. 

“Yes, sir, she’s wonderfully improved, she’s not the 
same creature that she was ; it’s the Birtwick balls, 
sir,” said John, laughing. 

This was a little joke of John’s ; he used to say 
that a regular course of the Birtwick horse-balls 


Ginger^ s Story Continued. 49 

would cure almost any vicious horse ; these balls, he 
said, were made up of patience and gentleness, 
firmness and petting, one pound of each to be mixed 
up with half-a-pint of common-sense, and given to 
the horse every day. 


CHAPTER IX 


MERRYLEGS, 

M r. BLOMEFIELD, the Vicar, had a large 
family of boys and girls ; sometimes they 
used to come and play with Miss Jessie and 
Flora. One of the girls was as old as Miss Jessie ; 
two of the boys were older, and there were several 
little ones. When they came, there was plenty of 
work for Merrylegs, for nothing pleased them so 
much as getting on him by turns and riding him all 
about the orchard and the home paddock, and this 
they would do by the hour together. 

One afternoon he had been out with them a long 
time, and when James brought him in and put on his 
halter, he said, 

“ There, you rogue, mind how you behave yourself, 
or we shall get into trouble.” 

“ What have you been doing, Merrylegs ? ” I 
asked. 

“ Oh ! ” said he, tossing his little head, “ I have only 
been giving those young people a lesson, they did not 
know when they had had enough, nor when I had 


Merrylegs. 5 1 

had enough, so I just pitched them off backwards, 
that was the only thing they could understand.” 

“What.!*” said I, “you threw the children off? I 
thought you did know better than that! Did you 
throw Miss Jessie or Miss Flora ?” 

He looked very much offended, and said : — 

“ Of course not, I would not do such a thing for the 
best oats that ever came into the stable ; why, I am 
as careful of our young ladies as the master could be, 
and as for the little ones, it is I who teach them to 
ride. When they seem frightened or a little unsteady 
on my back, I go as smooth and as quiet as old 
pussy when she is after a bird ; and when they are all 
right, I go on again faster, you see, just to use them 
to it ; so don’t you trouble yourself preaching to me ; 
I am the best friend, and the best riding master those 
children have. It is not them, it is the boys ; boys,” 
said he, shaking his mane, “ are quite different ; they 
must be broken in, as we were broken in when we 
were colts, and just be taught what’s what. The 
other children had ridden me about for nearly two 
hours, and then the boys thought it was their turn, 
and so it was, and I was quite agreeable. They rode 
me by turns, and I galloped them about up and down 
the fields and all about the orchard for a good hour. 
They had each cut a great hazel stick for a riding 
whip, and laid it on a little too hard ; but I took it in 
good part, till at last I thought we had had enough, 
so I stopped two or three times by way of a hint. 
Boys, you see, think a horse or pony is like a steam 


52 


Black Beauty. 

engine or a thrashing machine, and can go on as long 
and as fast as they please ; they never think that a 
pony can get tired, or have any feelings ; so as the 
one who was whipping me could not understand, I 
just rose up on my hind legs and let him slip off 
behind — that was all ; he mounted me again, and I 
did the same. Then the other boy got up, and as 
soon as he began to use his stick I laid him on the 
grass, and so on, till they were able to understand 
that was all. They are not bad boys ; they don’t 
wish to be cruel. I like them very well ; but you see 
I had to give them a lesson. When they brought me 
to James and told him, I think he was very angry to 
see such big sticks. He said they were only fit for 
drovers or gipsies, and not for young gentlemen.” 

“ If I had been you,” said Ginger, “ I would have 
given those boys a good kick, and that would have 
given them a lesson.” 

“No doubt you would,” said Merrylegs, “but then 
I am not quite such a fool (begging your pardon) as 
to anger our master or make James ashamed of me ; 
besides, those children are under my charge when 
they are riding ; I tell you they are entrusted to me. 
Why, only the other day I heard our master say to 
Mrs. Blomefield, ‘ My dear madam, you need not be 
anxious about the children, my old Merrylegs will 
take as much care of them as you or I could : I 
assure you I would not sell that pony for any money, 
he is so perfectly good-tempered and trustworthy ; ’ 
and do you think I am such an ungrateful brute as to 




7 ^ 

r i 


* 



LAID HIM ON THE GRASS 




Merrylegs. 53 

forget all the kind treatment I have had here for five 
years, and all the trust they place in me, and turn 
vicious because a couple of ignorant boys used me 
badly ? No ! no ! you never had a good place where 
they were kind to you ; and so you don’t know, and 
I’m sorry for you, but I can tell you good places 
make good horses. I wouldn’t vex our people for 
anything ; I love them, I do,” said Merrylegs, and he 
gave a low “ ho, ho, ho,” through his nose, as he used 
to do in the morning when he heard James’s footstep 
at the door. 

“ Besides,” he went on, “ if I took to kicking, where 
should I be ? Why, sold off in a jiffy, and no 
character, and I might find myself slaved about under 
a butcher’s boy, or worked to death at some seaside 
place where no one cared for me, except to find out 
how fast I could go, or be flogged along in some cart 
with three or four great men in it going out for a 
Sunday spree, as I have often seen in the place I 
lived in before I came here ; no,” said he, shaking his 
head, “ 1 hope I shall never come to that” 


CHAPTER X. 


A TALK IN THE ORCHARD, 

G inger and I were not of the regular tall 
carriage horse breed, we had more of the 
racing blood in us. We stood about fifteen 
and a half hands high ; we were therefore just as good 
for riding as we were for driving, and our master used 
to say that he disliked either horse or man that could 
do but one thing ; and as he did not want to show 
off in London parks, he preferred a more active and 
useful kind of horse. As for us, our greatest pleasure 
was when we were saddled for a riding party ; the 
master on Ginger, the mistress on me, and the young 
ladies on Sir Oliver and Merrylegs. It was so 
cheerful to be trotting and cantering all together, that 
it always put us in high spirits. I had the best of it, 
for I always carried the mistress ; her weight was 
little, her voice was sweet, and her hand was so light 
on the rein, that I was guided almost without feeling 
it. 

Oh! if people knew what a comfort to horses a 
light hand is, and how it keeps a good mouth and a 


A Talk in the Orchard. 


55 


good temper, they surely would not chuck, and drag, 
and pull at the rein as they often do. Our mouths 
are so tender, that where they have not been spoiled 
or hardened with bad or ignorant treatment, they 
feel the slightest movement of the driver’s hand, and 
we know in an instant what is required of us. My 
mouth had never been spoiled, and I believe that was 
why the mistress preferred me to Ginger, although 
her paces were certainly quite as good. She used 
often to envy me, and said it was all the fault of 
breaking in, and the gag bit in London, that her 
mouth was not so perfect as mine ; and then old Sir 
Oliver would say, “ There, there I don’t vex yourself ; 
you have the greatest honour ; a mare that can carry 
a tall man of our master’s weight, with all your 
spring and sprightly action, does not need to hold 
her head down because she does not carry the lady ; 
we horses must take things as they come, and always 
be contented and willing so long as we are kindly 
used.” 

I had often wondered how it was, that Sir Oliver 
had such a very short tail ; it really was only six or 
seven inches long, with a tassel of hair hanging from 
it ; and on one of our holidays in the orchard I 
ventured to ask him by what accident it was that he 
had lost his tail. “ Accident ! ” he snorted with a 
fierce look, “ it was no accident ! it was a cruel 
shameful, cold-blooded act ! When I was young I 
was taken to a place where these cruel things were 
done ; I was tied up, and made fast so that I could 


56 


Black Beauty, 


not stir, and then they came and cut off my long 
beautiful tail, through the flesh, and through the 
bone, and took it away.” 

“ How dreadful I” I exclaimed. 

“ Dreadful ! ah ! it was dreadful ; but it was not 
only the pain, though that was terrible and lasted a 
long time; it was not only the indignity of having 
my best ornament taken from me, though that was 
bad ; but it was this, how could I ever brush the flies 
off my sides and my hind legs any more? You who 
have tails just whisk the flies off without thinking 
about it, and you can’t tell what a torment it is to 
have them settle upon you and sting and sting, and 
have nothing in the world to lash them off with. I 
tell you it is a life-long wrong, and a life-long loss ; 
but thank Heaven ! they don’t do it now.” 

“ What did they do it for then ? ” said Ginger. 

“ For fashion ! ” said the old horse with a stamp of 
his foot ; “ for fashion ! if you know what that means ; 
there was not a well-bred young horse in my time 
that had not his tail docked in that shameful way, 
just as if the good God that made us did not know 
what we wanted and what looked best.” 

“ I suppose it is fashion that makes them strap our 
heads up with those horrid bits that I was tortured 
with in London,” said Ginger. 

“ Of course it is,” said he ; “ to my mind, fashion is 
one of the wickedest things in the world. Now look, 
for instance, at the way they serve dogs, cutting off 
their tails to make them look plucky, and shearing up 


A Talk in the Orchard. 


57 


their pretty little ears to a point to make them look 
sharp, forsooth. I had a dear friend once, a brown 
terrier — ‘ Skye,’ they called her ; she was so fond of 
me that she never would sleep out of my stall ; she 
made her bed under the manger, and there she had a 
litter of five as pretty little puppies as need be ; none 
were drowned, for they were a valuable kind, and how 
pleased she was with them ! and when they got their 
eyes open and crawled about, it was a real pretty 
sight ; but one day the man came and took them all 
away ; I thought he might be afraid I should tread 
upon them. But it was not so ; in the evening poor 
Skye brought them back again, one by one in her 
mouth ; not the happy little things that they were, 
but bleeding and crying pitifully ; they had all had a 
piece of their tails cut off, and the soft flap of their 
pretty little ears was cut quite off. How their mother 
licked them, and how troubled she was, poor thing ! I 
never forgot it. They healed in time, and they forgot 
the pain, but the nice soft flap that of course was 
intended to protect the delicate part of their ears from 
dust and injury, was gone for ever. Why don’t they 
cut their own children’s ears into points to make 
them look sharp? why don’t they cut the end off 
their noses to make them look plucky ? one would be 
just as sensible as the other. What right have they 
to torment and disfigure God’s creatures ? ” 

Sir Oliver, though he was so gentle, was a fiery old 
fellow, and what he said was all so new to me and so 
dreadful, that I found a bitter feeling toward men rise 


58 


Black Beauty, 


up in my mind that I had never had before. Of 
course Ginger was much excited ; she flung up her 
head with flashing eyes, and distended nostrils, 
declaring that men were both brutes and blockheads. 

“Who talks about blockheads?” said Merrylegs, 
who just came up from the old apple tree, where he 
had been rubbing himself against the low branch ; 
“Who talks about blockheads? I believe that is a 
bad word.” 

“ Bad words were made for bad things,” said 
Ginger, and she told him what Sir Oliver had said. 
“ It is all true,” said Merrylegs sadly, “ and I’ve seen 
that about the dogs over and over again where I 
lived first ; but we won’t talk about it here. You 
know that master, and John, and James are always 
good to us, and talking against men in such a place 
as this, doesn’t seem fair or grateful, and you know 
there are good masters and good grooms besides 
ours, though of course ours are the best.” This wise 
speech of good little Merrylegs, which we knew was 
quite true, cooled us all down, specially Sir Oliver, 
who was dearly fond of his master ; and to turn the 
subject I said, “Can any one tell me the use of 
blinkers ? ” 

“No!” said Sir Oliver, shortly, “because they are 
no use.” 

“They are supposed,” said Justice in his calm way, 
“to prevent horses from shying and starting, and 
getting so frightened as to cause accidents.” 

“Then what is the reason they do not put them 


A Talk in the Orchard. 59 

on riding horses ; especially on ladies’ horses ? ” 
sa.id 1. 

“ There is no reason at all,” said he quietly, “ except 
the fashion ; they say that a horse would be so 
frightened to see the wheels of his own cart or 
carriage coming behind him, that he would be sure to 
run away, although of course when he is ridden, he 
sees them all about him if the streets are crowded. I 
admit they do sometimes come too close to be 
pleasant, but we don’t run away ; we are used to it, 
and understand it, and if we had never blinkers put 
on, we should never want them ; we should see what 
was there, and know what was what, and be much 
less frightened than by only seeing bits of things, that 
we can’t understand.” 

Of course there may be some nervous horses who 
have been hurt or frightened when they were young, 
and may be the better for them, but as I never was 
nervous, I can’t judge. 

“ I consider,” said Sir Oliver, “ that blinkers are 
dangerous things in the night ; we horses can see 
much better in the dark than man can, and many an 
accident would never have happened if horses might 
have had the full use of their eyes. Some years ago, 
I remember, there was a hearse with two horses 
returning one dark night, and just by farmer 
Sparrow’s house, where the pond is close to the road, 
the wheels went too near the edge, and the hearse 
was overturned into the water ; both the horses were 
drowned, and the driver hardly escaped. Of course 


6o 


Black Beauty, 


after this accident a stout white rail was put up that 
might be easily seen, but if those horses had not been 
partly blinded, they would of themselves have kept 
farther from the edge, and no accident would have 
happened When our master’s carriage was over- 
turned, before you came here, it was said, that if the 
lamp on the left side had not gone out, John would 
have seen the great hole that the road makers had 
left ; and so he might, but if old Colin had not had 
blinkers on, he would have seen it, lamp or no lamp, 
for he was far too knowing an old horse to run into 
danger. As it was, he was very much hurt, the 
carriage was broken, and how John escaped nobody 
knew.” 

“I should say,” said Ginger, curling her nostril, 
‘‘that these men, who are so wise, had better give 
orders, that in future, all foals should be born with 
their eyes set just in the middle of their foreheads, 
instead of on the side ; they always think they can 
improve upon Nature and mend what God has made.” 

Things were getting rather sore again, when 
Merrylegs held up his knowing little face and said, 
“ I’ll tell you a secret ; I believe John does not approve 
of blinkers ; I heard him talking with master about it 
one day. The master said, that ‘ if horses had been 
used to them, it might be dangerous in some cases to 
leave them off,’ and John said he thought it would be 
a good thing if all colts were broken in without 
blinkers, as was the case in some foreign countries ; 
so let us cheer up, and have a run to the other end of 


A Talk in the Orchard. 


6i 


the orchard ; I believe the wind has blown down 
some apples, and we might just as well eat them as 
the slugs.” 

Merry legs could not be resisted, so we broke off 
our long conversation, and got up our spirits by 
munching some very sweet apples which lay scattered 
on the grass. 


CHAPTER XI. 


PLAIN SPEAKING. 

T he longer I lived at Birtwick, the more proud 
and happy I felt at having such a place. Our 
master and mistress were respected and 
beloved by all who knew them ; they were good and 
kind to everybody and everything ; not only men and 
women, but horses and donkeys, dogs and cats, cattle 
and birds ; there was no oppressed or ill-used 
creature that had not a friend in them, and*<heir 
servants took the same tone. If any of the village 
children were known to treat any creature cruelly, 
they soon heard about it from the Hall. 

The Squire and farmer Grey had worked together, 
as they said, for more than twenty years, to get 
bearing reins on the cart horses done away with, and 
in our parts you seldom saw them ; but sometimes if 
mistress met a heavily-laden horse, with his head 
strained up, she would stop the carriage and get 
out, and reason with the driver in her sweet serious 
voice, and try to shew him how foolish and cruel it 
was. 


Plain Speaking, 63 

I don’t think any man could withstand our 
mistress. I wish all ladies were like her. Our 
master too, used to come down very heavy some- 
times ; I remember he was riding me towards home 
one morning, when we saw a powerful man driving 
towards us in a light pony chaise, with a beautiful 
little bay pony, with slender legs, and a high-bred 
sensitive head and face. Just as he came to the Park 
gates, the little thing turned towards them the man, 
without word or warning, wrenched the creature’s 
head round with such a force and suddenness, that he 
nearly threw it on its haunches : recovering itself, it 
was going on when he began to lash it furiously ; 
the pony plunged forward, but the strong heavy hand 
held the pretty creature back with force almost 
enough to break its jaw, whilst the whip still cut into 
him. It was a dreadful sight to me, for I knew what 
fearful pain it gave that delicate little mouth ; but 
master gave me the word, and we were up with him 
iri a second. 

“ Sawyer,” he cried in a stern voice, “ is that pony 
made of flesh and blood ? 

“ Flesh and blood and temper,” he said ; “ he’s too 
fond of his own will, and that won’t suit me.” He 
spoke as if he was in a strong passion ; he was a 
builder who had often been to the Park on business 
“ And do you think,” said master sternly, “ that 
treatment like this, will make him fond of your will ? ’ 

“He had no business to make that turn ; his road 
was straight on 1 ” said the man roughly. 


64 


Black Beauty, 


“You have often driven that pony up to my 
place,” said master ; “ it only shews the creature’s 
memory and intelligence ; how did he know that 
you were not going there again ? but that has little to 
do with it. I must say, Mr. Sawyer, that more 
unmanly, brutal treatment of a little pony, it was 
never my painful lot to witness ; and by giving way 
to such passion, you injure your own character as 
much, nay more, than you injure your horse, and 
remember, we shall all have to be judged according 
to our works, whether they be towards man or 
towards beast.” 

Master rode me home slowly, and I could tell by 
his voice how the thing had grieved him. He was 
just as free to speak to gentlemen of his own rank as 
to those below him ; for another day, when we were 
out, we met a Captain Langley, a friend of our 
master’s ; he was driving a splendid pair of greys in 
a kind of break. After a little conversation the 
Captain said, 

“ What do you think of my new team, Mr. 
Douglas? you know, you are the judge of horses in 
these parts, and I should like your opinion.” 

The master backed me a little, so as to get a 
good view of them. “ They are an uncommonly 
handsome pair,” l)e said, “ and if they are as good 
as they look, I am sure you need not wish for 
anything better ; but I see you get hold of that pet 
scheme of yours for worrying your horses and 
lessening their power ” 


65 


Plain Speahing. 

“ What do you mean,” said the other, the bearing 
reins ? Oh, ah ! I know that’s a hobby of yours ; 
well, the fact is, I like to see my horses hold their 
heads up.” 

“ So do I,” said master, •* as well as any man, but I 
don’t like to see them held up ; that takes all the 
shine out of it. Now you are are military man, 
Langley, and no doubt like to see your regiment look 
well on parade, ‘ Heads up,’ and all that ; but you 
would not take much credit for your drill, if all your 
men had their heads tied to a backboard ! It might 
not be much harm on parade, except to worry and 
fatigue them, but how would it be in a bayonet 
charge against the enemy, when they want the free 
use of every muscle, and all their strength thrown 
forward ? I would not give much for their chance of 
victory, and it is just the same with horses ; you fret 
and worry their tempers, and decrease their power ; 
you will not let them throw their weight against their 
work, and so they have to do too much with their 
joints and muscles, and of course it wears them up 
faster. You may depend upon it, horses were 
intended to have their heads free, as free as men’s 
are ; and if we could act a little more according to 
common sense, and a good deal less according to 
fashion, we should find many things work easier ; 
besides, you know as well as I, that if a horse makes 
a false step, he has much less chance of recovering 
himself if his head and neck are fastened back. And 
now,” said the master, laughing, “ I have given my 


66 


Black Beauty, 


* 

hobby a good trot out, can*t you make up your mind 
to mount him too, Captain ? your example would go 
a long way.” 

“ I believe you are right in theory,” said the oth^r, 
“ and that’s rather a hard hit about the soldiers ; 
but — well — I’ll think about it/’ and so they parted 


CHAPTER XIL 


A STORMY DAY. 

O NE day iate in the autumn, my master had a 
long journey to go on business. I was put 
into the dog-cart, and John went with his 
master. I always liked to go in the dog-cart, it was 
so light, and the high wheels ran along so pleasantly. 
There had been a great deal of rain, and now the 
wind was very high, and blew the dry leaves across 
the road in a shower. We went along merrily till we 
came to the toll-bar, and the low wooden bridge. 
The river banks were rather high, and the bridge, 
instead of rising, went across just level, so that in the 
middle, if the river was full, the water would be nearly 
up to the woodwork and planks ; but as there were good 
substantial rails on each side, people did not mind it. 

The man at the gate said the river was rising fast, 
and he feared it would be a bad night. Many of the 
meadows were under water, and in one low part of 
the road, the water was half way up to my knees ; 
the bottom was good, and master drove gently, so it 
was no matter. 


68 


Black Beauty, 


When we got to the town, of course I had a good 
bait, but as the master’s business engaged him a long 
time, we did not start for home till rather late in the 
afternoon. The wind was then much higher, and I 
heard the master say to John, he had never been out 
in such a storm ; and so I thought, as we went along 
the skirts of a wood, where the great branches were 
swaying about like twigs, and the rushing sound 
was terrible. 

" I wish we were well out of this wood,” said my 
master. 

“Yes, sir,” said John, “it would be rather awkward 
if one of these branches came down upon us.” 

The words were scarcely out of his mouth, when 
there was a groan, and a crack, and a splitting sound, 
and tearing, crashing down amongst the other trees, 
came an oak, torn up by the roots, and it fell right 
across the road just before us. I will never say I 
was not frightened, for I was. I stopped still, and I 
believe I trembled ; of course I did not turn round 
or run away ; I was not brought up to that. John 
jumped out and was in a moment at my head. 

“That was a very near touch,” said my master. 
“ What’s to be done now ? ” 

“Well, sir, we can’t drive over that tree nor yet 
get round it ; there will be nothing for it, but to go 
back to the four cross-ways, and that will be a good 
six miles before we get round to the wooden bridge 
again ; it will make us late, but the horse is fresh.” 

So back we went, and round by the cross roads; 


A Stormy Day. 


69 


but by the time we got to the bridge, it was very 
nearly dark, we could just see that the water was over 
the middle of it ; but as that happened sometimes 
when the floods were out, master did not stop. We 
were going along at a good pace, but the moment my 
feet touched the first part of the bridge, I felt sure 
there was something wrong. I dare not go forward, 
and I made a dead stop. “ Go on. Beauty,” said my 
master, and he gave me a touch with the whip, but I 
dare not stir ; he gave me a sharp cut, I jumped, but 
I dare not go forward. 

“There’s something wrong, sir,” said John, and he 
sprang out of the dog-cart and came to my head and 
looked all about. He tried to lead me forward, 
“ Come on. Beauty, what’s the matter ? ” Of course 
I could not tell him, but I knew very well that the 
bridge was not safe. 

Just then, the man at the toll-gate on the other 
side ran out of the house, tossing a torch about like 
one mad. 

“ Hoy, hoy, hoy, halloo, stop ! ” he cried. 

“What’s the matter?” shouted my master. 

“ The bridge is broken in the middle, and part of it 
is carried away ; if you come on you’ll be into the 
river.” 

“ Thank God !” said my master. “You Beauty!” 
said John, and took the bridle and gently turned me 
round to the right-hand road by the river side. The 
sun had set some time, the wind seemed to have 
lulled off after that furious blast which tore up the 


70 


Black Beauty. 


tree. It grew darker and darker, stiller and stiller. 
I trotted quietly along, the wheels hardly making a 
sound on the soft road. For a good while neither 
master nor John spoke, and then master began in a 
serious voice. I could not understand much of what 
they said, but I found they thought, if I had gone on 
as the master wanted me, most likely the bridge would 
have given way under us, and horse, chaise, master, 
and man would have fallen into the river ; and as the 
current was flowing very strongly, and there was no 
light and no help at hand, it was more than likely we 
should all have been drowned. Master said, God had 
given men reason, by which they could find out things 
for themselves, but He had given animals knowledge 
which did not depend on reason, and which was much 
more prompt and perfect in its way, and by which 
they had often saved the lives of men. John had 
many stories to tell of dogs and horses, and the 
wonderful things they had done ; he thought people 
did not value their animals half enough, nor make 
friends of them as they ought to do. I am sure he 
makes friends of them if ever a man did. 

At last we came to the Park gates, and found the 
gardener looking out for us. He said that mistress 
had been in a dreadful way ever since dark, fearing 
some accident had happened, and that she had sent 
James off on Justice, the roan cob, towards the 
wooden bridge to make enquiry after us. 

We saw a light at the hall door and at the upper 
windows, and as we came up, mistress ran out, saying. 


A Stormy Day, 


71 


“ Are you really safe, my dear ? Oh ! I have been so 
anxious, fancying all sorts of things. Have you had 
no accident ? ” 

“No, my dear; but if your Black Beauty had not 
been wiser than we were, we should all have been 
carried down the river at the wooden bridge.” I 
heard no more, as they went into the house, and John 
took me to the stable. Oh ! what a good supper he 
gave me that night, a good bran mash and some 
crushed beans with my oats, and such a thick bed of 
straw, and I was glad of it, for I was tired 


CHAPTER XIII. 


THE DEVI VS TRADE MARK, 

O NE day when John and I had been out on some 
business of our master’s, and were returning 
gently on a long straight road, at some distance 
we saw a boy trying to leap a pony over a gate ; the 
pony would not take the leap, and the boy cut him 
with the whip, but he only turned off on one side ; he 
whipped him again, but the pony turned off on the 
other side. Then the boy got off and gave him a 
hard thrashing, and knocked him about the head ; 
then he got up again and tried to make him leap the 
gate, kicking him all the time shamefully, but still the 
pony refused. When we were nearly at the spot, the 
pony put down his head and threw up his heels and 
sent the boy neatly over into a broad quickset hedge, 
and with the rein dangling from his head, he set off 
home at a full gallop. John laughed out quite loud. 
“ Served him right,” he said. 

“ Oh ! oh ! oh ! ” cried the boy, as he struggled 
about amongst the thorns; “I say, come and help 
me out.” 


The DeviVs Trade Mark, 


73 


“Thank ye,” said John, “I think you are quite in 
the right place, and maybe a little scratching will 
teach you not to leap a pony over a gate that is too 
high for him,” and so with that John rode off. “ It 
may be,” said he to himself, “ that young fellow is a 
liar as well as a cruel one ; we’ll just go home by 
farmer Bushby’s, Beauty, and then if anybody wants 
to know, you and I can tell ’em, ye see ; ” so we 
turned off to the right, and soon came up to the stack 
yard, and within sight of the house. The farmer was 
hurrying out into the road, and his wife was standing 
at the gate, looking very frightened. 

“ Have you seen my boy?” said Mr. Bushby, as we 
came up, “ he went out an hour ago on my black pony, 
and the creature is just come back without a rider.” 

“ I should think, sir,” said John, “he had better be 
without a rider, unless he can be ridden properly.” 

“ What do you mean ? ” said the farmer. 

“ Well, sir, I saw your son whipping, and kicking, 
and knocking that good little pony about shamefully, 
because he would not leap a gate that was too high 
for him. The pony behaved well, sir, and shewed no 
vice; but at last he just threw up his heels, and tipped 
the young gentleman into the thorn hedge : he wanted 
me to help him out ; but I hope you will excuse me, 
sir, I did not feel inclined to do so. There’s no bones 
broken, sir, he’ll only get a few scratches. I love 
horses, and it roiles me to see them badly used ; it is 
a bad plan to aggravate an animal till he uses his 
heels ; the first time is not always the last.” 


74 


Black Beauty. 


During this time the mother began to cry, “ Oh ! 
my poor Bill, I must go and meet him, he must be 
hurt.” 

“You had better go into the house, wife,” said the 
farmer ; “ Bill wants a lesson about this, and I must 
see that he gets it ; this is not the first time nor the 
second that he has ill-used that pony, and I shall stop 
it. I am much obliged to you, Manly. Good evening.” 

So we went on, John chuckling all the way home, 
then he told James about it, who laughed and said, 
“ Serve him right. I knew that boy at school ; he 
took great airs on himself because he was a farmer’s 
son ; he used to swagger about and bully the little 
boys ; of course we elder ones would not have any of 
that nonsense, and let him know that in the school 
and the playground, farmers’ sons and labourers’ sons 
were all alike. I well remember one day, just before 
afternoon school, I found him at the large window 
catching flies and pulling off their wings. He did 
not see me, and I gave him a box on the ears that 
laid him sprawling on the floor. Well, angry as I 
was, I was almost frightened, he roared and bellowed 
in such a style. The boys rushed in from the play- 
ground, and the master ran in from the road to sec 
who was being murdered. Of course I said fair and 
square at once what I had done, and why ; then I 
shewed the master the poor flies, some crushed and 
some crawling about helpless, and I shewed him the 
wings on the window sill. I never saw him so angry 
before ; but as Bill was still howling and whining, like 


The DeviVs Trade Marh 


75 


the coward that he was, he did not give him any more 
punishment of that kind, but set him up on a stool 
for the rest of the afternoon, and said that he should 
not go out to play for that week. Then he talked to 
all the boys very seriously about cruelty, and said 
how hard-hearted and cowardly it was to hurt the 
weak and the helpless ; but what stuck in my mind 
was this, he said that cruelty was the Devil’s own 
trade mark, and if we saw any one who took pleasure 
in cruelty, we might know who he belonged to, for 
the devil was a murderer from the beginning, and a 
tormentor to the end. On the other hand, where we 
saw people who loved their neighbours, and were kind 
to man and beast, we might know that was God’s 
mark, for ‘ God is Love.’ ” 

“Your master never taught you a truer thing,” said 
John ; “there is no religion without love, and people 
may talk as much as they like about their religion, 
but if it does not teach them to be good and kind to 
man and beast, it is all a sham — all a sham, James, 
and it won’t stand when things come to be turned 
inside out and put down for what they are,** 


CHAPTER XIV. 


JAMES HOWARD, 

O NE morning early in December, John had just 
led me into my box after my daily exercise, 
and was strapping my cloth on, and James 
was coming in from the corn chamber with some oats, 
when the master came into the stable; he looked 
rather serious, and held an open letter in his hand. 
John fastened the door of my box, touched his cap, 
and waited for orders. 

“Good morning, John,” said the master; “I want 
to know if you have any complaint to make of 
James ?” 

“ Complaint, sir ? No, sir.” 

“Is he industrious at his work and respectful to 
you?” 

“Yes, sir, always.” 

“You never find he slights his work when your 
back is turned ? ” 

“ Never^ sir.” 

“ That’s well ; but I must put another question ; 
have you any reason to suspect that when he goes out 


James Howard. 


77 


with the horses to exercise them, or to take a message, 
he stops about talking to his acquaintances, or goes 
into houses where he has no business, leaving the 
horses outside?” 

“ No, sir, certainly not, and if anybody has been 
saying that about James, I don’t believe it, and I 
don’t mean to believe it unless I have it fairly proved 
before witnesses ; it’s not for me to say who has been 
trying to take away James’ character, but I will say 
this, sir, that a steadier, pleasanter, honester, smarter 
young fellow I never had in this stable. I can trust 
his word and I can trust his work ; he is gentle and 
clever with the horses, and I would rather have them 
in his charge, than in that of half the young fellows 
I know in laced hats and liveries ; and whoever wants 
a character of James Howard,” said John, with a 
decided jerk of his head, “let them come to John 
Manly.” 

The master stood all this time grave and attentive, 
but as John finished his speech, a broad smile spread 
over his face, and looking kindly across at James, 
who, all this time had stood still at the door, he said, 
“James, my lad, set down the oats and come here ; I 
am very glad to find that John’s opinion of your 
character agrees so exactly with my own. John is a 
cautious man,” he said, with a droll smile, “ and it is 
not always easy to get his opinion about people, so I 
thought if I beat the bush on this side, the birds 
would fly out, and I should learn what I wanted to 
know quickly ; so now we will come to business. I 


78 


Black Beauty. 


have a letter from my brother-in-law, Sir Clifford 
Williams, of Clifford Hall ; he wants me to find him 
a trustworthy young groom, about twenty or twenty- 
one, who knows his business. His old coachman, 
who has lived with him twenty years, is getting feeble, 
and he wants a man to work with him and get into 
his ways, who would be able, when the old man was 
pensioned off, to step into his place. He would have 
eighteen shillings a week at first, a stable suit, a driv- 
ing suit, a bedroom over the coach-house, and a boy 
under him. Sir Clifford is a good master, and if you 
could get the place, it would be a good start for you. 
I don’t want to part with you, and if you left us, I 
know John would lose his right hand.” 

“ That I should, sir,” said John, “ but I would not 
stand in his light for the world.” 

“ How old are you, James?” said master. 

“ Nineteen next May, sir.” 

“That’s young ; what do you think, John ?” 

“ Well, sir, it is young : but he is as steady as a 
man, and is strong, and well grown, and though he 
has not had much experience in driving, he has a 
light firm hand, and a quick eye, and he is very 
careful, and I am quite sure no horse of his will be 
ruined for want of having his feet and shoes looked 
after.” 

“Your word will go the furthest, John,” said the 
master, “ for Sir Clifford adds in a postscript, ‘ If I 
could find a man trained by your John, I should like 
him better than any other;’ so James, lad, think it 


James Howard, 


79 

o\€r, talk to your mother at dinner time, and then let 
m« know what you wish.’* 

In a few days after this conversation, it was fully 
settled that James should go to Clifford Hall in a 
month or six weeks, as it suited his master, and in 
the mean time he was to get all the practice in driving 
that could be given to him. I never knew the carriage 
go out so often before : when the mistress did not go 
out, the master drove himself in the two-wheeled 
chai.^ ; but now, whether it was master or the young 
ladies, or only an errand. Ginger and I were put into 
the carriage and James drove us. At the first, John 
rode with him on the box, telling him this and that, 
and after that James drove alone. 

Then it was wonderful what a number of places 
the master would go to in the city on Saturday, and 
what queer streets we were driven through. He was 
sure to go to the railway station jj^st as the train was 
coming in, and cabs and carriages, carts and omni- 
busses were all trying to get over the bridge together ; 
that bridge wanted good horses and good drivers 
when the railway bell was ringing, for it was narrow, 
and there was a very sharp turn up to the station, 
where it would not have been at all difficult for people 
to run into each other, if they did not look sharp and 
keep their wits about them. 


CHAPTER XV. 


THE OLD OSTLER. 

A fter this, it was decided by my master and 
mistress to pay a visit to some friends who 
lived about forty-six miles from our home, and 
James was to drive them. The first day we travelled 
thirty-two miles ; there were some long heavy hills, 
but James drove so carefully and thoughtfully that 
we were not at all harassed. He never forgot to put 
on the drag as we went downhill, nor to take it off at 
the right place. He kept our feet on the smoothest 
part of the road, and if the uphill was very long, he 
set the carriage wheels a little across the road, so as 
not to run back, and gave us a breathing. All these 
little things help a horse very much, particularly if he 
gets kind words into the bargain. 

We stopped once or twice on the road, and just as 
the sun was going down, we reached the town where 
we were to spend the night. We stopped at the 
principal hotel, which was in the Market Place ; it 
was a very large one ; we drove under an archway 
into a long yard, at the further end of which were the 


The Old Ostler. 


8i 


stables and coach-houses. Two ostlers came to take 
us out The head ostler was a pleasant, active little 
man, with a crooked leg, and a yellow striped 
waistcoat I never saw a man unbuckle harness so 
quickly as he did, and with a pat and a good word he 
led me to a long stable, with six or eight stalls in it, 
and two or three horses. The other man brought 
Ginger ; James stood by whilst we were rubbed down 
and cleaned. 

I never was cleaned so lightly and quickly as by 
that little old man. When he had done, James 
stepped up and felt me over, as if he thought I 
could not be thoroughly done, but he found my coat 
as clean and smooth as silk. 

“Well,” he said, “I thought I was pretty quick, 
and our John quicker still, but you do beat all I ever 
saw for being quick and thorough at the same time.” 

“ Practice makes perfect,” said the crooked little 
ostler, “ and ’twould be a pity if it didn’t ; forty years* 
practice, and not perfect ! ha, ha ! that would be a 
pity ; and as to being quick, why, bless you 1 that is 
only a matter of habit ; if you get into the habit of 
being quick, it is just as easy as being slow ; easier, I 
should say ; in fact, it don’t agree with my health to 
be hulking about over a job twice as long as it need 
take. Bless you ! I couldn’t whistle if I crawled over 
my work as some folks do ! You see, I have been 
about horses ever since I was twelve years old, in 
hunting stables, and racing stables ; and being small, 
ye see, I was jockey for several years ; but at the 


82 


Black Beauty. 


Goodwood, ye see, the turf was very slippery and my 
poor Larkspur got a fall, and I broke my knee, and 
so of course I was of no more use there ; but I could 
not live without horses, of course I couldn’t, so I took 
to the Hotels, and I can tell ye it is a downright 
pleasure to handle an animal like this, well-bred, 
well-mannered, well- cared for ; bless ye ! I can tell 
how a horse is treated. Give me the handling of a 
horse for twenty minutes, and I’ll tell you what sort 
of a groom he has had ; look at this one, pleasant, 
quiet, turns about just as you want him, holds up his 
feet to be cleaned out, or anything else you please to 
wish ; then you’ll find another, fidgety, fretty, won’t 
move the right way, or starts across the stall, tosses 
up his head as soon as you come near him, lays his 
ears, and seems afraid of you ; or else squares about 
at you with his heels. Poor things ! I know what 
sort of treatment they have had. If they are timid, it 
makes them start or shy ; if they are high-mettled, it 
makes them vicious or dangerous ; their tempers are 
mostly made when they are young. Bless you ! they 
are like children, train 'em up in the way they should 
go, as the good book says, and when they are old 
they will not depart from it, if they have a chance, 
that is.” 

“I like to hear you talk,” said James, “that’s the 
way we lay it down at home, at our master’s.” 

“ Who is your master, young man ? if it be a proper 
question. I should judge he is a good one, from 
what I see.” 


The Old Ostler. 83 

" He ?s Squire Gordon, of Birtwick Park, the other 
side the Beacon hills,” said James. 

“ Ah ! so, so, I have heard tell of him ; fine judge 
of horses, ain’t he ? the best rider in the county ? ” 

“I believe he is,” said James, “but he rides very 
little now, since the poor young master was killed.” 

“Ah! poor gentleman; I read all about it in the 
paper at the time ; a fine horse killed too, wasn’t 
there ? ” 

“Yes,” said James, “he was a splendid creature, 
brother to this one, and just like him.” 

“ Pity 1 pity I ” said the old man, “ ’twas a bad place 
to leap, if I remember ; a thin fence at top, a steep 
bank down to the stream, wasn’t it ? no chance for a 
horse to see where he is going. Now, I am for bold 
riding as much as any man, but still there are some 
leaps that only a very knowing old huntsman has any 
right to take ; a man’s life and a horse’s life are worth 
more than a fox’s tail, at least I should say they 
ought to be.” 

During this time the other man had finished 
Ginger, and had brought our corn, and James and the 
old man left the stable together. 


CHAPTER XVL 


THE FIRE. 

L ater on in the evening, a traveller’s horse 
was brought in by the second ostler, and 
whilst he was cleaning him, a young man 
with a pipe in his mouth lounged into the stable to 
gossip. 

“I say, Towler,” said the ostler, “just run up 
the ladder into the loft and put some hay down 
into this horse’s rack, will you ? only lay down your 
pipe.” 

“ All right,” said the other, and went up through 
the trap door ; and I heard him step across the floor 
overhead and put down the hay. James came in 
to look at us the last thing, and then the door was 
locked. 

I cannot say how long I had slept, nor what time 
in the night it was, but I woke up very uncomfort- 
able, though I hardly knew why. I got up, the air 
seemed all thick and choking. I heard Ginger 
coughing, and one of the other horses moved about 
restlessly ; it was quite dark, and I could see nothing, 



<“ALL RIGHT,’ SAID THE OTHER, AND WENT UP.” 










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The Fire, 85 

but the stable was full of smoke and I hardly knew 
how to breathe. 

The trap door had been left open, and I thought 
that was the place it came through. I listened and 
heard a soft rushing sort of noise, and a low crackling 
and snapping. I did not know what it was, but there 
was something in the sound so strange, that it made 
me tremble all over. The other horses were now all 
awake ; some were pulling at their halters, others 
were stamping. 

At last I heard steps outside, and the ostler who 
had put up the traveller’s horse burst into the stable 
with a lantern, and began to untie the horses, and try 
to lead them out ; but he seemed in such a hurry, 
and so frightened himself that he frightened me still 
more. The first horse would not go with him ; he 
tried the second and third, they too would not stir. 
He came to me next and tried to drag me out of the 
stall by force ; of course that was no use. He tried 
us all by turns and then left the stable. 

No doubt we were very foolish, but danger seemed 
to be all round, and there was nobody we knew to 
trust in, and all was strange and uncertain. The 
fresh air that had come in through the open door 
made it easier to breathe, but the rushing sound over- 
head grew louder, and as I looked upward, through 
the bars of my empty rack, I saw a red light flicker- 
ing on the wall. Then I heard a cry of “ Fire ’* 
outside, and the old ostler quietly and quickly came 
in ; he got one horse out, and went to another, but 


86 


Blach Beauty, 


the flames were playing round the trap door, and the 
roaring overhead was dreadful. 

The next thing I heard was James’ voice, quiet and 
cheery, as it always was. 

“ Come, my beauties, it is time for us to be off, 
so wake up and come along.” I stood nearest the 
door, so he came to me first, patting me as he came 
in. 

“ Come, Beauty, on with your bridle, my boy, 
we’ll soon be out of this smother.” It was on in 
no time ; then he took the scarf off his neck, and 
tied it lightly over my eyes, and patting and coax- 
ing he led me out of the stable. Safe in the yard, 
he slipped the scarf off my eyes, and shouted, “ Here 
somebody ! take this horse while I go back for the 
other.” 

A tall broad man stepped forward and took me, 
and James darted back into the stable. I set up a 
shrill whinny as I saw him go. Ginger told me 
afterwards, that whinny was the best thing I could 
have done for her, for had she not heard me outside, 
she would never have had courage to come out. 

There was much confusion in the yard ; the horses 
being got out of other stables, and the carriages 
and gigs being pulled out of houses and sheds, lest 
the flames should spread further. On the other side 
the yard, windows were thrown up, and people were 
shouting all sorts of things ; but I kept my eye fixed 
on the stable door, where the smoke poured out 
thicker than ever, and I could see flashes of red 


The Fire, 87 

light ; presently I heard above all the stir and din 
a loud clear voice, which I knew was master’s : — 
“James Howard ! James Howard ! are you there?” 
There was no answer, but I heard a crash of some- 
thing falling in the stable, and the next moment 
I gave a loud joyful neigh, for I saw James coming 
through the smoke leading Ginger with him ; she 
was coughing violently and he was not able to 
speak. 

“ My brave lad ! ” said master, laying his hand on 
his shoulder, “ are you hurt ? ” 

James shook his head, for he could not yet speak. 

“ Aye,” said the big man who held me, “ he is a 
brave lad, and no mistake.” 

“ And now,” said master, “ when you have got your 
breath, James, we’ll get out of this place as quickly 
as we can,” and we were moving towards the entry, 
when from the Market Place there came a sound of 
galloping feet and loud rumbling wheels 

“ ’Tis the fire engine ! the fire engine ! ” shouted 
tw'O or three voices, “ stand back, make way ! ” and 
clattering and thundering over the stones two horses 
dashed into the yard with the heavy engine behind 
them. The firemen leaped to the ground ; there was 
no need to ask where the fire was — it was torching up 
in a great blaze from the roof 

We got out as fast as we could into the broad 
quiet Market Place; the stars were shining, and 
except the noise behind us, all was still. Master 
led the way to a large Hotel on the other side, and 


88 


Black Beauty. 


as soon as the ostler came, he said, “James, I must 
now hasten to your mistress ; I trust the horses 
entirely to you, order whatever you think is needed,” 
and with that he was gone. The master did not 
run, but I never saw mortal man walk so fast as he 
did that night. 

There was a dreadful sound before we got into our 
stalls ; the shrieks of those poor horses that were left 
burning to death in the stable — it was very terrible ! 
and made both Ginger and me feel very bad. We, 
however, were taken in and well done by. 

The next morning the master came to see how 
we were and to speak to James. I did not hear 
much, for the ostler was rubbing me down, but I 
could see that James looked very happy, and I 
thought the master was proud of him. Our mistress 
had been so much alarmed in the night, that the 
journey was put off till the afternoon, so James 
had the morning on hand, and went first to the inn 
to see about our harness and the carriage, and then 
to hear more about the fire. When he came back, 
we heard him tell the ostler about it. At first no 
one could guess how the fire had been caused, but 
at last a man said he saw Dick Towler go into the 
stable with a pipe in his mouth, and when he came 
out he had not one, and went to the tap for another. 
Then the under ostler said he had asked Dick to go 
up the ladder to put down some hay, but told him 
to lay down his pipe first. Dick denied taking the 
pipe with him, but no one believed him. I remember 


The Fire, 


89 


our John Manly’s rule, never to allow a pipe in 
the stable, and thought it ought to be the rule 
everywhere. 

James said the roof and floor had all fallen in, 
and that only the black walls were standing ; the 
two poor horses that could not be got out, were 
buried under the burnt rafters and tiles. 


CHAPTER XVII 


JOHN MANLY*S TALK. 

T he rest of our journey was very easy, and a 
little after sunset we reached the house of my 
master’s friend. We were taken into a clean 
snug stable ; there was a kind coachman, who made 
us very comfortable, and who seemed to think a good 
deal of James when he heard about the fire. 

“There is one thing quite clear, young man,” he 
said, “ your horses know who they can trust ; it is one 
of the hardest things in the world to get horses out of 
a stable, when there is either fire or flood. I don’t 
know why they won’t come out, but they won’t — not 
one in twenty.” 

We stopped two or three days at this place and 
then returned home. All went well on the journey ; 
we were glad to be in our own stable again, and John 
was equally glad to see us. 

Before he and James left us for the night, James 
said, “ I wonder who is coming in my place.” 

“ Little Joe Green at the Lodge,” said John. 

“ Little Joe Green ! why, he’s a child I ” 


John Manly's Talk. 


91 


“ He IS fourteen and a half,” said John. 

“ But he is such a little chap ! ” 

“Yes, he is small, but he is quick, and willing, and 
kind-hearted too, and then he wishes very much to 
come, and his father would like it ; and I know the 
master would like to give him the chance. He said, 
if I thought he would not c \ he would look out for a 
bigger boy ; but I said I was quite agreeable to try 
him for six weeks.” 

“Six weeks!” said James, “why, it will be six 
months before he can be of much use ! it will make 
you a deal of work, John.” 

“Well,” said John with a laugh, “work and I are 
very good friends ; I never was afraid of work yet.” 

“You are a very good man,” said James, “ I wish I 
may ever be like you.” 

“ I don’t often speak of myself,” said John, “but as 
you are going away from us out into the world, to 
shift for yourself, I’ll just tell you how I look on these 
things. I was just as old as Joseph when my father 
and mother died of the fever, within ten days of each 
other, and left me and my crippled sister Nelly alone 
in the world, without a relation that we could look to 
for help. I was a farmer’s boy, not earning enough 
to keep myself, much less both of us, and she must 
have gone to the workhouse, but for our mistress 
(Nelly calls her, her angel, and she has good right to 
do so). She went and hired a room for her with old 
widow Mallet, and she gave her knitting and needle- 
work, when she was able to do it ; and when she was 


92 


Black Beauty, 


ill, she sent her dinners and many nice comfortable 
things, and was like a mother to her. Then the 
master, he took me into the stable under old Norman, 
the coachman that was then. I had my food at the 
house, and my bed in the loft, and a suit of clothes 
and three shillings a week, so that I could help Nelly. 
Then there was Norman ; he might have turned 
round and said that at his age he could not be 
troubled with a raw boy from the plough-tail, but he 
was like a father to me, and took no end of pains 
with me. When the old man died some years after, 
I stepped into his place, and now of course I have top 
wages, and can lay by for a rainy day or a sunny day 
as it may happen, and Nelly is as happy as a bird. 
So you see, James, I am not the man that should 
turn up his nose at a little boy, and vex a good, kind 
master. No ! no ! I shall miss you very much, 
James, but we shall pull through, and there’s nothing 
like doing a kindness when ’tis put in your way, and 
I am glad I can do it.” 

“Then,” said James, “you don’t hold with that 
saying, ‘ Everybody look after himself, and take care 
of number one.’ ” 

“No, indeed,” said John, “where should I and 
Nelly have been, if master and mistress and old 
Norman had only taken care of number one? Why 
— she in the workhouse and I hoeing turnips ! 
Where would Black Beauty and Ginger have been if 
you had only thought of number one ? why, roasted 
to death 1 No, Jim, no I that is a selfish, heathenish 


93 


John Manly s Talk, 

saying, whoever uses it, and any man who thinks he 
has nothing to do but take care of number one, why, 
it’s a pity but what he had been drowned like a 
puppy or a kitten, before he got his eyes open, that’s 
what I think,” said John, with a very decided jerk of 
of his head. 

James laughed at this; but there was a thickness 
in his voice when he said, “You have been my best 
friend except my mother ; I hope you won’t forget 
me.” 

“ No, lad, no ! ” said John, “ and if ever I can do 
you a good turn, I hope you won’t forget me.” 

The next day Joe came to the stables to learn all 
he could before James left He learned to sweep the 
stable, to bring in the straw and hay ; he began to 
clean the harness, and helped to wash the carriage. 
As he was quite too short to do anything in the way 
of grooming Ginger and me, James taught him upon 
Merrylegs, for he was to have full charge of him ; 
under John. He was a nice little bright fellow, and 
always came whistling to his work. 

Merrylegs was a good deal put out, at being 
“ mauled about,” as he said, “ by a boy who knew 
nothing ; “ but towards the end of the second week, 
he told me confidentially that he thought the boy 
would turn out well. 

At last the day came when James had to leave us ; 
cheerful as he always was, he looked quite down- 
hearted that morning. 

“You see,” he said to John, “lam leaving a great 


94 Black Beauty. 

deal behind ; my mother and Betsy, and you, and a 
good master and mistress, and then the horses, and 
my old Merrylegs. At the new place, there will not 
be a soul that I shall know. If it were not that I 
shall get a higher place, and be able to help my 
mother better, I don’t think I should have made up 
my mind to it ; it is a real pinch, John.” 

“Aye, James, lad, so it is, but I should not think 
much of you, if you could leave your home for the 
first time and not feel it ; cheer up, you’ll make 
friends there, and if you get on well — as I am sure 
you will, it will be a fine thing for your mother, and 
she will be proud enough that you have got into such 
a good place as that.” 

So John cheered him up, but every one was sorry 
to lose James ; as for Merrylegs, he pined after him 
for several days, and went quite off his appetite. So 
John took him out several mornings with a leading 
rein, when he exercised me, and trotting and galloping 
by my side, got up the little fellow’s spirits again, and 
he was soon all right. 

Joe’s father would often come in and give a little 
help, as he understood the work, and Joe took a great 
deal of pains to learn, and John was quite encouraged 
about him. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


GOING FOR THE DOCTOR, 

O NE night, a few days after James had left, I had 
eaten my hay and was laid down in my straw 
fast asleep, when I was suddenly awoke by 
the stable bell ringing very loud. I head the door of 
John’s house open, and his feet running up to the 
Hall. He was back again in no time ; he unlocked 
the stable door, and came in, calling out, “Wake up, 
Beauty, you must go well now, if ever you did ; ” and 
almost before I could think, he had got the saddle on 
my back and the bridle on my head ; he just ran 
round for his coat, and then took me at a quick trot 
up to the Hall door. The Squire stood there with a 
lamp in his hand. 

“Now, John,” he said, “ride for your life, that is, 
for your mistress’s life ; there is not a moment to 
lose ; give this note to Doctor White ; give your 
horse a rest at the Inn, and be back as soon as you 
can.” 

John said, “Yes, sir,” and was on my back in a 
minute. The gardener who lived at the lodge had 


96 


Black Beauty. 


heard the bell ring, and was ready with the gate open, 
and away we went through the Park and through the 
village, and down the hill till we came to the toll-gate. 
John called very loud and thumped upon the door : 
the man was soon out and flung open the gate. 

“Now,” said John, “do you keep the gate open for 
the Doctor ; here’s the money,” and off* we went 
again. 

There was before us a long piece of level road by 
the river side ; John said to me, “ Now, Beauty, do 
your best,” and so I did ; I wanted no whip nor spur, 
and for two miles I galloped as fast as I could lay my 
feet to the ground ; I don’t believe that my old 
grandfather who won the race at Newmarket, could 
have gone faster. When we came to the bridge, John 
pulled me up a little and patted my neck. “ Well 
done. Beauty ! good old fellow,” he said. He would 
have let me go slower, but my spirit was up, and 
I was off again as fast as before. The air was 
frosty, the moon was bright, it was very pleasant ; we 
came through a village, then through a dark wood, 
then uphill, then downhill, till after an eight miles run 
we came to the town, through the streets and into the 
Market Place. It was all quite still except the clatter 
of my feet on the stones — everybody was asleep. 
The church clock struck three as we drew up at 
Doctor White’s door. John rang the bell twice, and 
then knocked at the door like thunder. A window 
was thrown up, and Doctor White, in his nightcap, 
put his head out and said, “ What do you want ? ” 


Going for the Doctor. 


97 


** Mrs. Gordon is very ill, sir ; master wants you to 
go at once, he thinks she will die if you cannot get 
there — here is a note.” 

“ Wait,” he said, “ I will come.** 

He shut the window, and was soon at the door. 

“ The worst of it is,*’ he said, “ that my horse has 
been out all day and is quite done up ; my son has 
just been sent for, and he has taken the other. What 
is to be done ? Can I have your horse ? ” 

“ He has come at a gallop nearly all the way, sir, 
and I was to give him a rest here ; but I think my 
master would not be against it if you think fit, sir.” 

“ All right,” he said, “ I will soon be ready.” 

John stood by me and stroked my neck, I was very 
hot The Doctor came out with his riding whip. 

“You need not take that, sir,” said John, “Black 
Beauty will go till he drops ; take care of him, sir, if 
you can ; I should not like any harm to come to 
him.” 

“ No ! no ! John,” said the Doctor, “ I hope not,” 
and in a minute we had left John far behind. 

I will not tell about our way back ; the Doctor was 
a heavier man than John, and not so good a rider ; 
however, I did my very best The man at the 
toll-gate had it open. When we came to the hill, the 
Doctor drew me up. “Now, my good fellow,” he 
said, “ take some breath.*’ I was glad he did, for I 
was nearly spent, but that breathing helped me on, 
and soon we were in the Park. Joe was at the lodge 
gate, my master was at the Hall door, for he had 


98 


Black Beauty, 


heard us coming. He spoke not a word ; the Doctor 
went into the house with him, and Joe led me to the 
stable. I was glad to get home, my legs shook under 
me, and I could only stand and pant. I had not a 
dry hair on my body, the water ran down my legs, 
and I steamed all over — Joe used to say, like a pot on 
the fire. Poor Joe ! he was young and small, and as 
yet he knew very little, and his father, who would 
have helped him, had been sent to the next village ; 
but I am sure he did the very best he knew. He 
rubbed my legs and my chest, but he did not put my 
warm cloth on me ; he thought I was so hot I should 
not like it Then he gave me a pail full of water to 
drink ; it was cold and very good, and I drank it all ; 
then he gave me some hay and some corn, and 
thinking he had done right, he went away. Soon I 
began to shake and tremble, and turned deadly cold, 
my legs ached, my loins ached, and my chest ached, 
and I felt sore all over. Oh ! how I wished for my 
warm thick cloth as I stood and trembled. I wished 
for John, but he had eight miles to walk, so I lay 
down in my straw and tried to go to sleep. After a 
long while I heard John at the door ; I gave a low 
moan, for I was in great pain. He was at my side in 
a moment stooping down by me ; I could not tell 
him how I felt ; but he seemed to know it all ; he 
covered me up with two or three warm cloths, and 
then ran to the house for some hot water ; he made 
me some warm gruel which I drank, and then I think 
I went to sleep. 







Going for the Doctor, 


99 


John seemed to be very much put out. I heard 
him say to himself, over and over again, “ Stupid 
boy ! stupid boy ! no cloth put on, and I dare say the 
water was cold too ; boys are no good,” but Joe was a 
good boy after all. 

I was now very ill ; a strong inflammation had 
attacked my lungs, and I could not draw my breath 
without pain. John nursed me night and day, he 
would get up two or three times in the night to come 
to me ; my master, too, often came to see me. “ My 
poor Beauty,” he said one day, “ my good horse, you 
saved your mistress’s life, Beauty ! yes, you saved her 
life.” I was very glad to hear that, for it seems the 
Doctor had said if we had been a little longer it 
would have been too late. John told my master he 
never saw a horse go so fast in his life, it seemed as 
if the horse knew what was the matter. Of course I 
did, though John thought not ; at least I knew as 
much as this, that John and I must go at the top of 
our speed, and that it was for the sake of the 
mistresa , 


CHAPTER XIX. 

ONLY IGNORANCE. 

I DO not know how long I was ill. Mr. Bond, 
the horse doctor, came every day. One day he 
bled me ; John held a pail for the blood ; I felt 
very faint after it, and thought I should die, and I 
believe they all thought so too. 

Ginger and Merrylegs had been moved into the 
other stable, so that I might be quiet, for the fever 
made me very quick of hearing ; any little noise 
seemed quite loud, and I could tell every one’s 
footstep going to and from the house. I knew all 
that was going on. One night John had to give me a 
draught ; Thomas Green came in to help him. After 
I had taken it and John had made me as comfortable 
as he could, he said he should stay half-an-hour to 
see how the medicine settled. Thomas said he would 
stay with him, so they went and sat down on a bench 
that had been brought into Merrylegs’ stall, and put 
down the lantern at their feet, that I might not be 
disturbed with the light. 

For a while both men sat silent, and then Tom 
Green said in a low voice. 


OrUy Ignorance* loi 

**I wish, John, you’d say a bit of a kind word to 
Joe ; the boy is quite broken-hearted, he can’t eat his 
meals, and he can’t smile. He says he knows it was 
all his fault, though he is sure he did the best he 
knew, and he says, if Beauty dies, no one will ever 
speak to him again. It goes to my heart to hear 
him ; I think you might give him just a word, he is 
not a bad boy.” 

After a short pause, John said slowly, “You must 
not be too hard upon me, Tom. I know he meant no 
harm, I never said he did ; I know he is not a bad 
boy, but you see I am sore myself ; that horse is the 
pride of my heart, to say nothing of his being such a 
favourite with the master and mistress ; and to think 
that his life may be flung away in this manner, is 
more than I can bear ; but if you think I am hard on 
the boy, I will try to give him a good word 
to-morrow — that is, I mean if Beauty is better.” 

“Well, John ! thank you, I knew you did not wish 
to be too hard, and I am glad you see it was only 
ignorance.” 

John’s voice almost startled me as he answered, 
“ Only ignorance ! only ignorance ! how can you talk 
about only ignorance ? Don’t you know that it is the 
worst thing in the world, next to wickedness ? — and 
which does the most mischief heaven only knows. If 
people can say, ‘ Oh ! I did not know, I did not 
mean any harm,’ they think it is all right. I 
suppose Martha Mulwash did not mean to kill that 
baby, when she dosed it with Dalby and soothing 


102 Black Beauty. 

syrups ; but she did kill it, and was tried for man- 
slaughter.” 

“ And serve her right too,” said Tom. “ A woman 
should not undertake to nurse a tender little child 
without knowing what is good and what is bad for it” 

“Bill Starkey,” continued John, “did not mean to 
frighten his brother into fits, when he dressed up like 
a ghost, and ran after him in the moonlight ; but he 
did ; and that bright, handsome little fellow, that 
might have been the pride of any mother’s heart, is 
just no better than an idiot, and never will be, if he 
live to be eighty years old. You were a good deal 
cut up yourself, Tom, two weeks ago, when those 
young ladies left your hothouse door open, with a 
frosty east wind blowing right in ; you said it killed 
a good many of your plants.” 

“ A good many ! ” said Tom, “ there was not one of 
the tender cuttings that was not nipped off ; I shall 
have to strike all over again, and the worst of it is, 
that I don’t know where to go to get fresh ones. I 
was nearly mad when I came in and saw what was 
done.” 

“ And yet,” said John, “ I am sure the young ladies 
did not mean it ; it was only ignorance ! ” 

I heard no more of this conversation, for the 
medicine did well and sent me to sleep, and in the 
morning I felt much better: but I often thought of 
John’s words when I came to know more of the 
world. 


CHAPTER XX. 


JOE GREEN, 

J OE GREEN went on very well ; he learned 
quickly, and was so attentive and careful, that 
John began to trust him in many things ; but, 
as I have said, he was small of his age, and it was 
seldom that he was allowed to exercise either Ginger 
or me ; but it so happened one morning that John 
was out with “Justice” in the luggage cart, and the 
master wanted a note to be taken immediately to a 
gentleman’s house, about three miles distant, and sent 
his orders for Joe to saddle me and take it; adding 
the caution that he was to ride carefully. 

The note was delivered, and we were quietly return- 
ing till we came to the brickfield. Here we saw a 
cart heavily laden with bricks ; the wheels had stuck 
fast in the stiff mud of some deep ruts; and the 
carter was shouting and flogging the two horses 
unmercifully. Joe pulled up. It was a sad sight. 
There were the two horses straining and struggling 
with all their might to drag the cart out, but they 
could not move it; the sweat streamed from their 


104 Black Beauty. 

legs and flanks, their sides heaved, and every muscle 
was strained, whilst the man, fiercely pulling at the 
head of the forehorse, swore and lashed most brutally. 

“Hold hard,” said Joe, “don’t go on flogging the 
horses like that ; the wheels are so stuck that they 
cannot move the cart” The man took no heed, but 
went on lashing. 

“Stop! pray stop,” said Joe; “I’ll help you to 
lighten the cart, they can’t move it now.” 

“ Mind your own business, you impudent young 
rascal, and I’ll mind mine.” The man was in a 
towering passion, and the worse for drink, and laid 
on the whip again. Joe turned my head, and the 
next moment we were going at a round gallop 
towards the house of the master brickmaker. I 
cannot say if John would have approved of our pace, 
but Joe and I were both of one mind, and so angry, 
that we could not have gone slower. 

The house stood close by the roadside. Joe 
knocked at the door and shouted, “ Hulloa 1 is Mr. 
Clay at home?” The door was opened, and Mr. 
Clay himself came out. 

“Hulloa! young man! you seem in a hurry; any 
orders from the squire this morning ? ” 

“ No, Mr. Clay, but there’s a fellow in your brick- 
yard flogging two horses to death. I told him to stop 
and he wouldn’t ; I said I’d help him to lighten the 
cart, and he wouldn’t ; so I have come to tell you ; 
pray, sir, go.” Joe’s voice shook with excitement. 

“ Thank ye, my lad,” said the man, running in for 


Joe Green. 


105 


his hat ; then pausing for a moment — “ Will you give 
evidence of what you saw if I should bring the fellow 
up before a magistrate ? ” 

“That I will,” said Joe, “and glad too” The man 
was gone, and we were on our way home at a smart 
trot. 

“Why, what’s the matter with you, Joe? you look 
angry all over,” said John, as the boy flung himself 
from the saddle. 

“ I am angry all over, I can tell you,” said the boy, 
and then in hurried, excited words he told all that 
had happened. Joe was usually such a quiet, gentle 
little fellow that it was wonderful to see him so 
roused. 

“Right, Joe! you did right, my boy, whether the 
fellow gets a summons or not. Many folks would 
have ridden by and said 'twas not their business to 
interfere. Now, I say, that with cruelty and oppres- 
sion it is everybody’s business to interfere when they 
see it ; you did right, my boy.” 

Joe was quite calm by this time, and proud that 
John approved of him, and he cleaned out my feet, 
and rubbed me down with a firmer hand than usual. 

They were just going home to dinner when the 
footman came down to the stable to say that Joe was 
wanted directly in master’s private room ; there was 
a man brought up for ill-using horses, and Joe’s 
evidence was wanted. The boy flushed up to his 
forehead, and his eyes sparkled. “They shall have 
it ” said he. 


io6 


Black Beauty, 


** Put yourself a bit straight,” said John. Joe gave 
a pull at his necktie and a twitch at his jacket, and 
was off in a moment. Our master being one of the 
county magistrates, cases were often brought to him 
to settle, or say what should be done. In the stable 
we heard no more for some time, as it was the men’s 
dinner hour, but when Joe came next into the stable 
I saw he was in high spirits ; he gave me a good- 
natured slap and said, “We won’t see such things 
done, will we, old fellow ? ” We heard afterwards 
that he had given his evidence so clearly, and the 
horses were in such an exhausted state, bearing marks 
of such brutal usage, that the carter was committed 
to take his trial, and might possibly be sentenced to 
two or three months in prison. 

It was wonderful what a change had come over Joe. 
John laughed, and said he had grown an inch taller in 
that week, and I believe he had. He was just as kind 
and gentle as before, but there was more purpose and 
determination in all that he did — as if he had jumped 
at once from a boy into a mao. 


CHAPTER XXL 

THE PARTING, 

I HAD now lived in this happy place three years, 
but sad changes were about to come over us. 
We heard from time to time that our mistress 
was ill. The Doctor was often at the house, and the 
master looked grave and anxious. Then we heard 
that she must leave her home at once and go to a 
warm country for two or three years. The news fell 
upon the household like the tolling of a death-bell. 
Everybody was sorry ; but the master began directly 
to make arrangements for breaking up his establish- 
ment and leaving England. We used to hear it 
talked about in our stable ; indeed, nothing else was 
talked about. 

John went about his work silent and sad, and Joe 
scarcely whistled. There was a great deal of coming 
and going ; Ginger and I had full work. 

The first of the party who went were Miss Jessie 
and Flora with their governess. They came to bid 
us good-bye. They hugged poor Merrylegs like an 
old friend and so indeed he was. Then we heard 


io8 


Black Beauty. 


what had been arranged for us. Master had sold 

Ginger and me to his old friend, the Earl of W , 

for he thought we should have a good place there. 
Merrylegs he had given to the Vicar, who was want- 
ing a pony for Mrs. Blomefield, but it was on the 
condition that he should never be sold, and when he 
was past work that he should be shot and buried. 

Joe was engaged to take care of him, and to help 
in the house, so I thought that Merrylegs was well 
off. John had the offer of several good places, but he 
said he should wait a little and look round. 

The evening before they left, the master came into 
the stable to give some directions and to give his 
horses the last pat. He seemed very low-spirited; I 
knew that by his voice. I believe we horses can tell 
more by the voice than many men can. 

“Have you decided what to do, John.!*” he said. 
“ I find you have not accepted any of those offers.” 

“ No, sir, I have made up my mind that if I could 
get a situation with some first-rate colt-breaker and 
horse-trainer, that it would be the right thing for me. 
Many young animals are frightened and spoiled by 
wrong treatment which need not be, if the right man 
took them in hand. I always get on well with horses, 
and if I could help some of them to a fair start, I 
should feel as if I was doing some good. What do 
you think of it, sir ? ” 

“ I don’t know a man anywhere,” said master, “ that 
I should think so suitable for it as yourself You 
understand horses, and somehow they understand 


109 


The Parting. 

you, and in time you might set up for yourself ; I 
think you could not do better. If in any way I can 
help you, write to me ; I shall speak to my agent in 
London, and leave your character with him.” 

Master gave John the name and address, and then 
he thanked him for his long and faithful service ; but 
that was too much for John. “ Pray don’t, sir, I can’t 
bear it ; you and my dear mistress have done so 
much for me that I could never repay it ; but we 
shall never forget you, sir, and please God we may 
some day see mistress back again like herself ; we 
must keep up hope, sir.” Master gave John his hand, 
but he did not speak, and they both left the stable. 

The last sad day had come ; the footman and the 
heavy luggage had gone off the day before, and there 
was only master and mistress and her maid. Ginger 
and I brought the carriage up to the Hall door for the 
last time. The servants brought out cushions and 
rugs and many other things, and when all were 
arranged, master came down the steps carrying the 
mistress in his arms (I was on the side next the 
house and could see all that went on) ; he placed her 
carefully in the carriage, while the house servants 
stood round crying. 

“Good-bye, again,” he said, “we shall not forget 
any of you,” and he got in — “ Drive on, John.” 

Joe jumped up, and we trotted slowly through the 
Park, and through the village, where the people were 
standing at their doors to have a last look and to say, 
“God bless h.in.*’ 


no 


Black Beauty, 


When we reached the railway station, I think 
mistress walked from the carriage to the waiting 
room. I heard her say in her own sweet voice, 
“Good-bye, John, God bless you.” I felt the rein 
twitch, but John made no answer, perhaps he could 
not speak. As soon as Joe had taken the things out 
of the carriage, John called him to stand by the 
horses, while he went on the platform. Poor Joe ! he 
stood close up to our heads to hide his tears. Very 
soon the train came puffing up into the station ; then 
two or three minutes, and the doors were slammed 
to ; the guard whistled and the train glided away, 
leaving behind it only clouds of white smoke, and 
some very heavy hearts. 

When it was quite out of sight, John came back — 

“We shall never see her again,” he said — “never.” 
He took the reins, mounted the box, and with Joe 
drove slowly home ; but it was not our home now. 


PART II, 


CHAPTER XXIL 
EARLSHALU 

T he next morning after breakfast, Joe put 
Merrylegs into the mistress’s low chaise to 
take him to the vicarage ; he came first and 
said good-bye to us, and Merrylegs neighed to us 
from the yard. Then John put the saddle on Ginger 
and the leading rein on me, and rode us across the 
country about fifteen miles to Earlshall Park, where 

the Earl of W lived. There was a very fine 

house and a great deal of stabling ; we went into the 
yard through a stone gateway, and John asked for 
Mr. York. It was some time before he came. He 
was a fine-looking, middle-aged man, and his voice 
said at once that he expected to be obeyed. He was 
very friendly and polite to John, and after giving us a 
slight look, he called a groom to take us to our boxes 
and invited John to take some refreshment. 

We were taken to a light airy stable, and placed in 
boxes adjoining each other, where we were rubbed 


1 12 Black Beauty* 

down and fed In about half-an-hour John and Mr. 
York, who was to be our new coachman, came in to 
see us. 

“ Now, Mr. Manly,” he said, after carefully looking 
at us both, “ I can see no fault in these horses, but 
we all know that horses have their peculiarities as 
well as men, and that sometimes they need different 
treatment ; I should like to know if there is anything 
particular in either of these, that you would like to 
mention.” 

“Well,” said John, “I don’t believe there is a 
better pair of horses in the country, and right 
grieved I am to part with them, but they are not 
alike. The black one is the most perfect temper I 
ever knew; I suppose he has never known a hard 
word or a blow since he was foaled, and all his 
pleasure seems to be to do what you wish ; but the 
chestnut I fancy must have had bad treatment ; we 
heard as much from the dealer. She came to us 
snappish and suspicious, but when she found what 
sort of place ours was, it all went off by degrees ; 
for three years I have never seen the smallest sign 
of temper, and if she is well treated there is not a 
better, more willing animal than she is ; but she is 
naturally a more irritable constitution than the black 
horse ; flies tease her more ; anything wrong in the 
harness frets her more ; and if she were illused or 
unfairly treated she would not be unlikely to give tit 
for tat you know that many high-mettled horses will 
do so.” 


Earlshall. 


113 

“Of course,” said York, “I quite understand, but 
you know it is not easy in stables like these to have 
all the grooms just what they should be ; I do my 
best, and there I must leave it Til remember what 
you have said about the mare.” 

They were going out of the stable, when John 
stopped and said, “ I had better mention that we 
have never used the ‘bearing rein* with either of 
them ; the black horse never had one on, and the 
dealer said it was the gag-bit that spoiled the other’s 
temper.” 

“Well,” said York, “if they come here, they must 
wear the bearing rein. I prefer a loose rein myself, 
and his lordship is always very reasonable about 
horses ; but my lady — that’s another thing, she will 
have style ; and if her carriage horses are not reined 
up tight, she wouldn’t look at them. I always stand 
out against the gag-bit, and shall do so, but it must 
be tight up when my lady rides ! ” 

“ I am sorry for it, very sorry,” said John, “ but I 
must go now, or I shall lose the train.” 

He came round to each of us to pat and speak to 
us for the last time ; his voice sounded very sad. 

I held my face close to him, that was all I could do 
to say good-bye ; and then he was gone, and I have 
never seen him since. 

The next day Lord W came to look at us ; he 

seemed pleased with our appearance. 

“ I have great confidence in these horses,” he said, 

• from the character my friend Mr. Gordon has given 


Black Beauty, 


1 14 

me of them. Of course they are not a match In 
colour, but my idea is, that they will do very well for 
the carriage whilst we are in the country. Before we 
go to London I must try to match Baron ; the black 
horse, I believe, is perfect for riding.” 

York then told him what John had said about us. 

“ Well,” said he, “ you must keep an eye to the 
mare, and put the bearing rein easy ; I dare say they 
will do very well with a little humouring at first. I’ll 
mention it to her ladyship.” 

In the afternoon we were harnessed and put in 
the carriage, and as the stable clock struck three 
we were led round to the front of the house. It 
was all very grand, and three or four times as large 
as the old house at Birtwick, but not half so pleasant, 
if a horse may have an opinion. Two footmen were 
standing ready, dressed in drab livery, with scarlet 
breeches and white stockings. Presently we heard 
the rustling sound of silk as my lady came down 
the flight of stone steps. She stepped round to look 
at us ; she was a tall, proud-looking woman, and did 
not seem pleased about something, but she said 
nothing, and got into the carriage. This was the 
first time of wearing a bearing rein, and I must say, 
though it certainly was a nuisance not to be able to 
get my head down now and then, it did not pull my 
head higher than I was accustomed to carry it. I 
lelt anxious about Ginger, but she seemed to be quiet 
and content 

The next day at three o’clock we were again at 


Earlshall. 


”5 


the door, and the footmen as before ; we heard the 
silk dress rustle, and the lady came down the steps, 
and in an imperious voice she said, “ York, you must 
put those horses’ heads higher, they are not fit to be 
seen.” 

York got down and said very respectfully, “ I beg 
your pardon, my lady, but these horses have not 
been reined up for three years, and my lord said it 
would be safer to bring them to it by degrees ; but 
if your ladyship pleases, I can take them up a little 
more.” 

“ Do so,” she said. 

York came round to our heads and shortened the 
rein himself, one hole, I think : every little makes a 
difference, be it for better or worse, and that day we 
had a steep hill to go up. Then I began to under- 
stand what I had heard of Of course I wanted to 
put my head forward and take the carriage up with 
a will, as we had been used to do ; but no, I had to 
pull with my head up now, and that took all the 
spirit out of me, and the strain came on my back 
and legs. When we came in. Ginger said, “ Now you 
see what it is like, but this is not bad, and if it does 
not get much worse than this, I shall say nothing 
about it, for we are very well treated here ; but if 
they strain me up tight, why, let ’em look out! 1 
can’t bear it, and I won’t.” 

Day by day, hole by hole our bearing reins were 
shortened, and instead of looking forward with 
pleasure to having my harness put on as I used to 


Black Beauty, 


1 16 

do, I began to dread it Ginger too seemed restless, 
though she said very little. At last I thought the 
worst was over ; for several days there was no more 
shortening, and I determined to make the best of it 
and do my duty, though it was now a constant harass 
instead of a pleasure ; but the worst was not come. 


rjTAFTER XXIIL 


A STRIKE FOR LIBERTY. 

O NE day my lady came down later than usual, 
and the silk rustled more than ever. 

“Drive to the Duchess of B ’s,” she 

said, and then after a pause — “ Are you never going 
to get those horses’ heads up, York? Raise them at 
once, and let us have no more of this humouring and 
nonsense.” 

York came to me first, whilst the groom stood at 
Ginger’s head. He drew my head back and fixed 
the rein so tight that it was almost intolerable ; then 
he went to Ginger, who was impatiently jerking her 
head up and down against the bit, as was her way 
now. She had a good idea of what was coming, 
and the moment York took the rein off the terret 
in order to shorten it, she took her opportunity, and 
reared up so suddenly, that York had his nose 
roughly hit, and his hat knocked off ; the groom was 
nearly thrown off his legs. At once they both flew 
to her head, but she was a match for them, and went 
on plunging, rearing, and kicking in a most desperate 


ii8 Black Beauty, 

manner; at last she kicked right over the carriage 
pole and fell down, after giving me a severe blow 
on my near quarter. There is no knowing what 
further mischief she might have done, had not York 
promptly sat himself down flat on her head, to 
prevent her struggling, at the same time calling out, 
“Unbuckle the black horse! run for the winch and 
unscrew the carriage pole ; cut the trace here — some- 
body, if you can’t unhitch it.” One of the footmen 
ran for the winch, and another brought a knife from 
the house. The groom soon set me free from Ginger 
and the carriage, and led me to my box. He just 
turned me in as I was, and ran back to York. 1 
was much excited by what had happened, and if I 
had ever been used to kick or rear, I am sure I 
should have done it then ; but I never had, and 
there I stood angry, sore in my leg, my head still 
strained up to the terret on the saddle, and no 
power to get it down. I was very miserable, and 
felt much inclined to kick the first person who came 
near me. 

Before long, however. Ginger was led in by two 
grooms, a good deal knocked about and bruised. 
York came with her and gave his orders, and then 
came to look at me. In a moment he let down my 
head. 

“Confound these bearing reins!” he said to himself. 
“ I thought we should have some mischief soon — 
master will be sorely vexed ; but there — if a woman’s 
husband can’t rule her, of course a servant can’t ; so 


A Strike for Liberty. 119 

I wash my hands of it, and if she can’t get to the 
Duchess’ garden party, I can’t help it.” 

York did not say this before the men ; he always 
spoke respectfully when they were by. Now, he felt 
me all over, and soon found the place above my hock 
where I had been kicked. It was swelled and pain- 
ful ; he ordered it to be sponged with hot water, and 
then some lotion was put on. 

Lord W was much put out when he learned 

what had happened ; he blamed York for giving way 
to his mistress, to which he replied, that in future he 
would much prefer to receive his orders only from his 
lordship ; but I think nothing came of it, for things 
went on the same as before. I thought York might 
have stood up better for his horses, but perhaps I am 
no judge. 

Ginger was never put into the carriage again, but 
when she was well of her bruises, one of Lord 

W ’s younger sons said he should like to have 

her ; he was sure she would make a good hunter. 
As for me, I was obliged still to go in the carriage, 
and had a fresh partner called Max ; he had always 
been used to the tight rein. I asked him how it was 
he bore it. 

“ Well,” he said, I bear it because I must, but it is 
shortening my life, and it will shorten yours too, if 
you have to stick to it.” 

“Do you think,” I said, •that our masters know 
how bad it is for us ? ” 

“ I can’t say,” he replied, “ but the dealers and the 


120 


Black Beauty, 


horse doctors know it very well. I was at a dealer’s 
once, who was training me and another horse to go 
as a pair ; he was getting our heads up, as he said, 
a little higher and a little higher every day. A 
gentleman who was there asked him why he did so ; 
‘ Because,’ said he, ‘ people won’t buy them unless we 
do. The London people always want their horses to 
carry their heads high, and to step high ; of course it 
IS very bad for the horses, but then it is good for trade. 
The horses soon wear up, or get diseased, and they 
come for another pair.’ That,” said Max, “is what he 
said in my hearing, and you can judge for yourself.” 

What I suffered with that rein for four long months 
in my lady’s carriage, it would be hard to describe ; 
but I am quite sure that, had it lasted much longer, 
either my health or my temper would have given 
way. Before that, I never knew what it was to foam 
at the mouth, but now the action of the sharp bit 
on my tongue and jaw, and the constrained position 
of my head and throat, always caused me to froth 
at the mouth more or less. Some people think it 
very fine to see this, and say, “ What fine, spirited 
creatures!” But it is just as unnatural for horses as 
for men, to foam at the mouth : it is a sure sign of 
some discomfort, and should be attended to. Besides 
this, there was a pressure on my windpipe, which 
often made my breathing very uncomfortable ; when 
I returned from my work, my neck and chest were 
strained and painful, my mouth and tongue tender, 
and 1 felt worn and depressed. 


A Strike for Liberty, 


121 


In my old home, I always knew that John and my 
master were my friends ; but here, although in many 
ways I was well treated, I had no friend. York 
might have known, and very likely did know, how 
that rein harassed me ; but I suppose he took it as a 
matter of course that could not be helped ; at any 
rate, nothing was done to relieve me. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


THE LADY ANNE, OR A RUNAWAY HORSE. 

E arly in the spring, Lord W and part of 

his family went up to London, and took York 
with them. I and Ginger and some other 
horses were left at home foi; use, and the head groom 
was left in charge. 

The Lady Harriet, who remained at the Hall, was 
a great invalid, and never went out in the carriage, 
and the Lady Anne preferred riding on horseback 
with her brother, or cousins. She was a perfect 
horse-woman, and as gay and gentle as she was 
beautiful. She chose me for her horse, and named 
me “ Black Auster.” I enjoyed these rides very 
much in the clear cold air, sometimes with Ginger, 
sometimes with Lizzie. This Lizzie was a bright bay 
mare, akaost thorough-bred, and a great favourite with 
the gentlemen, on account of her fine action and 
lively spirit ; but Ginger, who knew more of her than 
I did, told me she was rather nervous. 

There was a gentleman of the name of Blantyre 
staying at the Hall \ he always rode Lizzie, and 


The Lady Anne, or a Runaway Horse, 123 

praised her so much, that one day Lady Anne 
ordered the side-saddle to be put on her, and the 
other saddle on me. When we came to the door, the 
gentleman seemed very uneasy. 

“ How is this ? ” he said, “ are you tired of your 
good Black Auster ? ” 

“Oh! no, not at all,” she replied, “but I am 
amiable enough to let you ride him for once, and I 
will try your charming Lizzie. You must confess 
that in size and appearance she is far more like a 
lady’s horse than my own favourite.” 

“ Do let me advise you not to mount her,” he said ; 
“ she is a charming creature, but she is too nervous for 
a lady. I assure you she is not perfectly safe ; let me 
beg you to have the saddles changed.” 

“ My dear cousin,” said Lady Anne, laughing, “ pray 
do not trouble your good careful head about me ; I 
have been a horse-woman ever since I was a baby, 
and I have followed the hounds a great many times, 
though I know you do not approve of ladies hunting ; 
but still that is the fact, and I intend to try this 
Lizzie that you gentlemen are all so fond of ; so please 
help me to mount like a good friend as you are.” 

There was no more to be said ; he placed her 
carefully on the saddle, looked to the bit and curb, 
gave the reins gently into her hand, and then 
mounted me. Just as we were moving off, a footman 
came out with a slip of paper and message from the 
Lady Harriet — “ Would they ask this question for 
her at Dr. Ashley’s, and brine the answer?’' 


124 


Black Beauty. 


The village was about a mile off, and the Doctor^s 
house was the last in it. We went along gaily 
enough till we came to his gate. There was a short 
drive up to the house between tall evergreens. 
Blantyre alighted at the gate, and was going to open 
it for Lady Anne, but she said, “ I will wait for you 
here, and you can hang Auster’s rein on the gate.” 

He looked at her doubtfully — “ I will not be five 
minutes,” he said. 

“ Oh, do not hurry yourself ; Lizzie and I shall not 
run away from you.” 

He hung my rein on one of the iron spikes, and was 
soon hidden amongst the trees. Lizzie was standing 
quietly by the side of the road a few paces off with 
her back to me. My young mistress was sitting 
easily with a loose rein, humming a little song. I 
listened to my rider’s footsteps until they reached the 
house, and heard him knock at the door. There was 
a meadow on the opposite side of the road, the gate 
of which stood open ; just then, some cart horses and 
several young colts came trotting out in a very 
disorderly manner, whilst a boy behind was cracking 
a great whip. The colts were wild and frolicsome, 
and one of them bolted across the road, and blundered 
up against Lizzie’s hind legs ; and whether it was the 
stupid colt, or the loud cracking of the whip, or both 
together, I cannot say, but she gave a violent kick, 
and dashed off into a headlong gallop. It was so 
sudden, that Lady Anne was nearly unseated, but she 
soon recovered herself. I gave a loud shrill neigh for 


The Lady Anne, or a Runaway Horse. 125 

help : again and again I neighed, pawing the ground 
impatiently, and tossing my head to get the rein 
loose. I had not long to wait. Blantyre came 
running to the gate ; he looked anxiously about, and 
just caught sight of the flying figure, now far away on 
the road. In an instant he sprang to the saddle. I 
needed no whip, or spur, for I was as eager as my 
rider ; he saw it, and giving me a free rein, and 
leaning a little forward, we dashed after them. 

For about a mile and a half the road ran straight, 
and then bent to the right, after which it divided into 
two roads. Long before we came to the bend, she 
was out of sight. Which way had she turned? A 
woman was standing at her garden gate, shading her 
eyes with her hand, and looking eagerly up the road. 
Scarcely drawing the rein, Blantyre shouted, “ Which 
way?” “To the right,” cried the woman, pointing 
with her hand, and away we went up the right-hand 
road ; then for a moment we caught sight of her ; 
another bend and she was hidden again. Several 
times we caught glimpses, and then lost them. We 
scarcely seemed to gain ground upon them at all. 
An old road-mender was standing near a heap of 
stones — his shovel dropped, and his hands raised. 
As we came near he made a sign to speak. Blantyre 
drew the rein a little. “To the common, to the 
common, sir ; she has turned off there.” I knew this 
common very well ; it was for the most part very 
uneven ground, covered with heather and dark green 
furze bushes, with here and there a scrubby old thorn 


126 


Black Beauty. 


tree ; there were also open spaces of fine short grass, 
with ant-hills and mole turns everywhere ; the worst 
place I ever knew for a headlong gallop. 

We had hardly turned on the common, when we 
caught sight again of the green habit flying on before 
us. My lady’s hat was gone, and her long brown 
hair was streaming behind her. Her head and body 
were thrown back, as if she were pulling with all her 
remaining strength, and as if that strength were 
nearly exhausted. It was clear that the roughness of 
the ground had very much lessened Lizzie’s speed, 
and there seemed a chance that we might overtake 
her. 

Whilst we were on the high road, Blantyre had 
given me my head ; but now with a light hand and a 
practised eye, he guided me over the ground in such 
a masterly manner, that my pace was scarcely 
slackened, and we were decidedly gaining on them. 

About half way across the heath there had been a 
wide dyke recently cut, and the earth from the 
cutting was cast up roughly on the other side. 
Surely this would stop them ! but no ; with scarcely 
a pause Lizzie took the leap, stumbled among the 
rough clods, and fell. Blantyre groaned, “ Now, 
Auster, do your best ! ” He gave me a steady rein, I 
gathered myself well together, and with one deter- 
mined leap cleared both dyke and bank. 

Motionless among the heather, with her face to the 
earth, lay my poor young mistress. Blantyre kneeled 
down and called her name — there was no sound ; 


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The Lady Anne, or a Runaway Horse. 1 27 

gently he turned her face upward, it was ghastly 
white, and the eyes were closed. “Annie, dear 
Annie, do speak ! ” but there w as no answer. He 
unbuttoned her habit, loosened her collar, felt her 
hands and wrists, then started up and looked wildly 
round him for help. 

At no great distance there were two men cutting 
turf, who seeing Lizzie running wild without a rider 
had left their work to catch her. 

Blantyre’s halloo soon brought them to the spot. 
The foremost man seemed much troubled at the 
sight, and asked what he could do. 

“ Can you ride ? ” 

“ Well, sir, I bean’t much of a horseman, but I’d 
risk my neck for the Lady Anne ; she was uncommon 
good to my wife in the winter.” 

“ Then mount this horse, my friend ; your neck will 
be quite safe, and ride to the Doctor’s and ask him to 
come instantly — then on to the Hall — tell them all 
that you know, and bid them send me the carriage 
with Lady Anne’s maid and help. I shall stay here.” 

“All right, sir. I’ll do my best, and I pray God the 
dear young lady may open her eyes soon.” Then 
seeing the other man, he called out, “ Here, Joe, run 
for some water, and tell my missis to come as quick 
as she can to the Lady Anne.” 

He then somehow scrambled into the saddle, and 
with a “ Gee up ” and a clap on my sides with both 
his legs, he started on his journey, making a little 
circuit to avoid the dyke. He had no whip, which 


128 


Black Beauty, 


seemed to trouble him, but my pace soon cured that 
difficulty, and he found the best thing he could do 
was to stick to the saddle, and hold me in, which he 
did manfully. I shook him as little as I could help, 
but once or twice on the rough ground he called out, 
“ Steady ! Woah ! Steady.” On the high road we 
were all right ; and at the Doctor’s, and the Hall, he 
did his errand like a good man and true. They 
asked him in to take a drop of something. “No! 
no,” he said, “ I’ll be back to ’em again by a short cut 
through the fields, and be there afore the carriage.” 

There was a great deal of hurry and excitement 
after the news became known. I was just turned into 
my box, the saddle and bridle were taken off, and a 
cloth thrown over me. 

Ginger was saddled and sent off in great haste for 
Lord George, and I soon heard the carriage roll out 
of the yard. 

It seemed a long time before Ginger came back 
and before we were left alone ; and then she told me 
all that she had seen. 

“ I can’t tell much,” she said ; “ we went a gallop 
nearly all the way, and got there just as the Doctor 
rode up. There was a woman sitting on the ground 
with the lady’s head in her lap. The Doctor poured 
something into her mouth, but all that I heard was 
‘ she is not dead.’ Then I was led off by a man to a 
little distance. After awhile she was taken to the 
carriage, and we came home together. I heard my 
master say to a gentleman who stopped him to 


The Lady Anne, or a Runaway Horse, 129 

enquire, that he hoped no bones were broken, but 
that she had not spoken yet.” 

When Lord George took Ginger for hunting, York 
shook his head ; he said it ought to be a steady hand 
to train a horse for the first season, and not a random 
rider like Lord George. 

Ginger used to like it very much, but sometime^ 
when she came back, I could see that she had been 
very much strained, and now and then she gave a 
short cough. She had too much spirit to complain 
but I could not help feeling anxious about her. 

Two days after the accident, Blantyre paid me a 
visit : he patted me and praised me very much, he 
told Lord George that he was sure the horse knew of 
Annie’s danger as well as he did. “ I could not have 
held him in, if I would,” said he ; “ she ought never to 
ride any other horse.” I found by their conversation, 
that my young mistress was now out of danger, and 
would soon be able to ride again. This was good 
news to me, and I looked forward to a happy life. 


CHAPTER XXV. 


REUBEN SMITH. 

I MUST now say a little about Reuben Smith, 
who was left in charge of the stables when York 
went to London. No one more thoroughly 
understood his business than he did, and when he 
was all right, there could not be a more faithful or 
valuable man. He was gentle and very clever in his 
management of horses, and could doctor them almost 
as well as a farrier, for he had lived two years with a 
veterinary surgeon. He was a first-rate driver; he 
could take a four-in-hand, or a tandem, as easily as a 
pair. He was a handsome man, a good scholar, and 
had very pleasant manners. I believe everybody 
liked him ; certainly the horses did ; the only wonder 
was, that he should be in an under situation, and not 
in the place of a head coachman like York : but he 
had one great fault, and that was the love of drink. 
He was not like some men, always at it ; he used to 
Keep steady for weeks or months together ; and then 
he would break out and have a “ bout ” of it, as York 
called it, and be a disgrace to himself, a terror to his 


Reuben Smith. 


131 


wife, and a nuisance to all that had to do with him. 
He was, however, so useful, that two or three times 
York had hushed the matter up, and kept it from the 
Earl’s knowledge ; but one night, when Reuben had 
to drive a party home from a ball, he was so drunk 
that he could not hold the reins, and a gentleman of 
the party had to mount the box and drive the ladies 
home. Of course this could not be hidden, and 
Reuben was at once dismissed ; his poor wife and 
little children had to turn out of the pretty cottage by 
the Park gate and go where they could. Old Max 
told me all this, for it happened a good while ago ; 
but shortly before Ginger and I came. Smith had 
been taken back again. York had interceded for 
him with the Earl, who is very kind-hearted, and the 
man had promised faithfully that he would never 
taste another drop as long as he lived there. He had 
kept his promise so well that York thought he might 
be safely trusted to fill his place whilst he was away, 
and he was so clever and honest, that no one else 
seemed so well fitted for it. 

It was now early in April, and the family was 
expected home some time in May. The light 
brougham was to be fresh done up, and as Colonel 
Blantyre was obliged to return to his regiment, it was 
arranged that Smith should drive him to the town in 
it, and ride back ; for this purpose, he took the saddle 
with him, and I was chosen for the journey. At the 
station the Colonel put some money into Smith’s 
hand and bid him good-bye, saying, “Take care of 


132 


Black Beauty. 


your young mistress, Reuben, and don’t let Black 
Auster be hacked about by any random young prig 
that wants to ride him — keep him for the lady.” 

We left the carriage at the maker’s, and Smith rode 
me to the White Lion, and ordered the ostler to feed 
me well and have me ready for him at four o’clock. 
A nail in one of my front shoes had started as I came 
along, but the ostler did not notice it till just about 
four o’clock. Smith did not come into the yard till 
five, and then he said he should not leave till six, as 
he had met with some old friends. The man then 
told him of the nail, and asked if he should have the 
shoe looked to. 

“ No,” said Smith, “that will be all right till we get 
home.” 

He spoke in a very loud off-hand way, and I 
thought it very unlike him, not to see about the shoe, 
as he was generally wonderfully particular about 
loose nails in our shoes. He did not come at six, nor 
seven, nor eight, and it was nearly nine o’clock before 
he called for me, and then it was with a loud rough 
voice. He seemed in a very bad temper, and abused 
the ostler, though I could not tell what for. 

The landlord stood at the door and said, “ Have a 
care, Mr. Smith ! ” but he answered angrily with an 
oath ; and almost before he was out of the town he 
began to gallop, frequently giving me a sharp cut 
with his whip, though I was going at full speed. The 
moon had not yet risen, and it was very dark. The 
roads were stony, having been recently mended ; 



COULD SEE SMITH LYING A FEW YARDS BEYOND ME 


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133 


going over them at this pace, my shoe became looser, 
and when we were near the turnpike gate it came off. 

If Smith had been in his right senses, he would 
have been sensible of something wrong in my pace ; 
but he was too madly drunk to notice anything. 

Beyond the turnpike was a long piece of road, upon 
which fresh stones had just been laid ; large sharp 
stones, over which no horse could be driven quickly 
without risk of danger. Over this road, with one shoe 
gone, I was forced to gallop at my utmost speed, my 
rider meanwhile cutting into me with his whip, and 
with wild curses urging me to go still faster. Of 
course my shoeless foot suffered dreadfully ; the hoof 
was broken and split down to the very quick, and the 
inside was terribly cut by the sharpness of the stones. 

This could not go on ; no horse could keep his 
footing under such circumstances, the pain was too 
great. I stumbled, and fell with violence on both my 
knees. Smith was flung off by my fall, and owing to 
the speed I was going at, he must have fallen with 
great force. I soon recovered my feet and limped to 
the side of the road, where it was free from stones. 
The moon had just risen above the hedge, and by its 
light I could see Smith lying a few yards beyond me. 
He did not rise, he made one slight effort to do so, 
and then, there was a heavy groan. I could have 
groaned too, for I was suffering intense pain both 
from my foot and knees ; but horses are used to bear 
their pain in silence. I uttered no sound, but I stood 
there and listened. One more heavy groan from 


134 


Black Beauty, 


Smith ; but though he now lay in the full moonlight, 
I could see no motion. I could do nothing for him 
nor myself, but, oh ! how I listened for the sound of 
horse, or wheels, or footsteps. The road was not 
much frequented, and at this time of the night we 
might stay for hours before help came to us. I stood 
watching and listening. It was a calm sweet April 
night ; there were no sounds, but a few low notes of a 
nightingale, and nothing moved but the white clouds 
near the moon, and a brown owl that flitted over the 
hedge. It made me think of the summer nights long 
ago, when I used to lie beside my mother in the 
green pleasant meadow at Farmer Grey’Sb 


CHAPTER XXVL 


HOfV IT ENDED. 

I T must have been nearly midnight, when I heard 
at a great distance the sound of a horse’s feet 
Sometimes the sound died away, then it grew 
clearer again and nearer. The road to Earlshall led 
through plantations that belonged to the Earl : the 
sound came in that direction, and I hoped it might be 
some one coming in search of us. As the sound 
came nearer and nearer, I was almost sure I could 
distinguish Ginger’s step ; a little nearer still, and I 
could tell she was in the dog-cart. I neighed loudly, 
and was overjoyed to hear an answering neigh from 
Ginger, and men’s voices. They came slowly over 
the stones, and stopped at the dark figure that lay 
upon the ground. 

One of the men jumped out, and stooped down 
over it “ It is Reuben 1 ” he said, “ and he does not 
stir.” 

The other man followed and bent over him. " He’s 
dead,” he said ; “ feel how cold his hands are.” 

They raised him up, but there was no life, and his 


^36 


Black Beauty, 


hair was soaked with blood. They laid him down 
again, and came and looked at me. They soon saw 
my cut knees. 

“ Why, the horse has been down and thrown him ! 
Who would have thought the black horse would have 
done that ? Nobody thought he could fall. Reuben 
must have been lying here for hours ! Odd, too, that 
the horse has not moved from the place.” 

Robert then attempted to lead me forward. I 
made a step, but almost fell again. 

“ Hallo ! he’s bad in his foot as well as his knees ; 
look here — his hoof is cut all to pieces, he might well 
come down, poor fellow ! I tell you what, Ned, I'm 
afraid it hasn’t been all right with Reuben! Just 
think of him riding a horse over these stones without 
a shoe ! Why, if he had been in his right senses, he 
would just as soon have tried to ride him over the 
moon. I’m afraid it has been the old thing over 
again. Poor Susan 1 she looked awfully pale when 
she came to my house to ask if he had not come 
home. She made believe she was not a bit anxious, 
and talked of a lot of things that might have kept 
him. But for all that, she begged me to go and meet 
him — but what must we do? There’s the horse to 
get home as well as the body — and that will be no 
easy matter.” 

Then followed a conversation between them, till it 
was agreed that Robert as the groom should lead me, 
and that Ned must take the body. It was a hard job 
to get it into the dog-cart, for there was no one to 


How it Ended. 


137 


hold Ginger ; but she knew as well as I did what was 
going on, and stood as still as a stone. I noticed 
that, because, if she had a fault, it was that she was 
impatient in standing. 

Ned started off very slowly with his sad load, and 
Robert came and looked at my foot again ; then he 
took his handkerchief and bound it closely round, and 
so he led me home. I shall never forget that night 
walk ; it was more than three miles. Robert led me 
on very slowly, and I limped and hobbled on as well 
as I could with great pain. I am sure he was sorry 
for me, for he often patted and encouraged me, 
talking to me in a pleasant voice. 

At last I reached my own box, and had some corn, 
and after Robert had wrapped up my knees in wet 
cloths, he tied up my foot in a bran poultice to draw 
out the heat, and cleanse it before the horse doctor 
saw it in the morning, and I managed to get myself 
down on the straw, and slept in spite of the pain. 

The next day, after the farrier had examined my 
wounds, he said he hoped the joint was not injured, 
and if so, I should not be spoiled for work, but I 
should never lose the blemish. I believe they did the 
best to make a good cure, but it was a long and 
painful one ; proud flesh, as they called it, came up in 
my knees, and was burnt out with caustic, and when 
at last it was healed, they put a blistering fluid over 
the front of both knees to bring all the hair off : they 
had some reason for this, and I suppose it was all 
right 


"38 


Bloch Beauty, 


As Smith’s death had been so sudden, and no one 
was there to see it, there was an inquest held. The 
landlord and ostler at the White Lion, with several 
other people, gave evidence that he was intoxicated 
when he started from the inn. The keeper of the 
tollgate said he rode at a hard gallop through the 
gate ; and my shoe was picked up amongst the 
stones, so that the case was quite plain to them, and I 
was cleared of all blame. 

Everybody pitied Susan ; she was nearly out of her 
mind : she kept saying over and over again, “ Oh ! he 
was so good — so good ! it was all that cursed drink ; 
why will they sell that cursed drink ? Oh, Reuben, 
Reuben ! ” So she went on till after he was buried ; 
and then, as she had no home or relations, she, with 
her six little children, were obliged once more to 
leave the pleasant home by the tall oak trees, and go 
into that great gloomy Union House. 


CHAPTER XXVII; 


RUINED, AND GOING DOWNHILU 

A S soon as my knees were sufficiently healed, I 
was turned into a small meadow for a month 
or two ; no other creature was there, and 
though I enjoyed the liberty and the sweet grass, yet 
I had been so long used to . society that I felt very 
lonely. Ginger and I had become fast friends, and 
now I missed her company extremely. I often 
neighed when I heard horses’ feet passing in the road, 
but I seldom got an answer ; till one morning the 
gate was opened, and who should come in but dear 
old Ginger. The man slipped off her halter and left 
her there. With a joyful whinny I trotted up to her ; 
we were both glad to meet, but I soon found that it 
was not for our pleasure that she was brought to be 
with me. Her story would be too long to tell, but 
the end of it was that she had been ruined by hard 
riding, and was now turned off to see what rest would 
do. 

Lord George was young and would take no 
warning; he was a hard rider, and would hunt 


140 Black Beauty, 

whenever he could get the chance, quite careless of 
his horse. Soon after I left the stable there was a 
steeplechase, and he determined to ride. Though the 
groom told him she was a little strained, and was not 
fit for the race, he did not believe it, and on the day of 
the race, urged Ginger to keep up with the foremost 
riders. With her high spirit, she strained herself to 
the utmost ; she came in with the first three horses, 
but her wind was touched, beside which, he was too 
heavy for her, and her back was strained ; “ And so,” 
she said, “here we are — ruined in the prime of our 
youth and strength — you by a drunkard, and I by a 
fool ; it is very hard.” We both felt in ourselves that 
we were not what we had been. However, that did 
not spoil the pleasure we had in each other’s com- 
pany ; we did not gallop about as we once did, but 
we used to feed, and lie down together, and stand for 
hours under one of the shady lime trees with our 
heads close to each other ; and so we passed our time 
till the family returned from town. 

One day we saw the Earl come into the meadow, 
and York was with him. Seeing who it was, we 
stood still under our lime tree, and let them come up 
to us. They examined us carefully. The Earl 
seemed much annoyed. 

“ There is three hundred pounds flung away for no 
earthly use,” said he ; “ but what I care most for is, 
that these horses of my old friend, who thought they 
would find a good home with me, are ruined. The 
mare shall have a twelvemonth’s run, and we shall see 


Ruined y and Going Down-hill. 14 1 

what that will do for her ; but the black one, he must 
be sold ; 'tis a great pity, but I could not have knees 
like these in my stables.” 

“No, my lord, of course not,” said York, “but he 
might get a place where appearance is not of much 
consequence, and still be well treated. I know a man 
in Bath, the master of some livery stables, who often 
wants a good horse at a low figure ; I know he looks 
well after his horses. The inquest cleared the horse’s 
character, and your lordship’s recommendation, or 
mine, would be sufficient warrant for him.” 

“You had better write to him, York. I should be 
more particular about the place than the money he 
would fetch.” 

After this they left us. 

“They’ll soon take you away,” said Ginger, “and 
I shall lose the only friend I have, and most likely 
we shall never see each other again. ’Tis a hard 
world!” 

About a week after this, Robert came into the field 
with a halter, which he slipped over my head, and led 
me away. There was no leave-taking of Ginger ; we 
neighed to each other as I was led off, and she trotted 
anxiously along by the hedge, calling to me as long 
as she could hear the sound of my feet 

Through the recommendation of York, I was 
bought by the master of the livery stables. I had to 
go by train, which was new to me, and required a 
good deal of courage the first time; but as I found 
the puffing, rushing, whistling, and more than all, the 


142 Black Beauty, 

trembling of the horse-box in which I stood did me 
no real harm, I soon took it quietly. 

When I reached the end of my journey, I found 
myself in a tolerably comfortable stable and well 
attended to. These stables were not so airy and 
pleasant as those I had been used to. The stalls 
were laid on a slope instead of being level, and as my 
head was kept tied to the manger, I was obliged 
always to stand on the slope, which was very 
fatiguing. Men do not seem to know yet, that horses 
can do more work if they can stand comfortably and 
can turn about : however, I was well fed and well 
cleaned, and, on the whole, I think our master took 
as much care of us as he could. He kept a good 
many horses and carriages of different kinds, for hire. 
Sometimes his own men drove them ; at others, the 
horse and chaise were let to gentlemen or ladies who 
drove themselves 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 


A JOB HORSE AND HIS DRIVERS. 

H itherto I had always been driven by people 
who at least knew how to drive ; but in this 
place I was to get my experience of all the 
different kinds of bad and ignorant driving to which 
we horses are subjected ; for I was a “job-horse,” and 
was let out to all sorts of people, who wished to hire 
me ; and as I was good-tempered and gentle, I think 
I was oftener let out to the ignorant drivers, than 
some of the other horses, because I could be depended 
upon. It would take a long time to tell of all the 
different styles in which I was driven, but I will men- 
tion a few of them. 

First, there were the tight-rein drivers — men who 
seemed to think that all depended on holding the 
reins as hard as they could, never relaxing the pull 
on the horse’s mouth, or giving him the least liberty 
of movement. They are always talking about “ keep- 
ing the horse well in hand,” and “ holding a horse up,” 
just as if a horse was not made to hold himself up. 
Some poor broken-down horses, whose mouths have 


144 


Black Beauty. 


been made hard and insensible by just such drivers as 
these, may, perhaps, find some support in it ; but for 
a horse who can depend upon its own legs, and who 
has a tender mouth, and is easily guided, it is not 
only tormenting, but it is stupid. 

Then there are the loose-rein drivers, who let the 
reins lie easily on our backs, and their own hand rest 
lazily on their knees. Of course, such gentlemen 
have no control over a horse, if anything happens 
suddenly. If a horse shies, or starts, or stumbles, 
they are nowhere, and cannot help the horse or them- 
selves, till the mischief is done. Of course, for myself, 
I had no objection to it, as I was not in the habit 
either of starting or stumbling, and had only been 
used to depend on my driver for guidance and 
encouragement ; still, one likes to feel the rein a little 
in going down-hill, and likes to know, that one’s 
driver is not gone to sleep. 

Besides, a slovenly way of driving gets a horse into 
bad, and often lazy habits; and when he changes 
hands, he has to be whipped out of them with more 
or less pain and trouble. Squire Gordon always kept 
us to our best paces, and our best manners. He said 
that spoiling a horse, and letting him get into bad 
habits, was just as cruel as spoiling a child, and both 
had to suffer for it afterwards. 

Besides, these drivers are often careless altogether, 
and will attend to anything else rather than their 
horses. I went out in the phaeton one day with one 
of them ; he had a lady, and two children behind. 





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A Job Horse and His Drivers. 145 


He flopped the reins about as we started, and of 
course, gave me several unmeaning cuts with the 
whip, though I was fairly off. There had been a 
good deal of road-mending going on, and even where 
the stones were not freshly laid down, there were a 
great many loose ones about. My driver was laugh- 
ing and joking with the lady and the children, and 
talking about the country to the right and the left ; 
but he never thought it worth while to keep an eye 
on his horse, or to drive on the smoothest parts of the 
road ; and so it easily happened that I got a stone in 
one of my fore feet. 

Now, if Mr, Gordon, or John, or in fact, any good 
driver had been there he would have seen that some- 
thing was wrong, before I had gone three paces. Or 
even if it had been dark, a practised hand would have 
felt by the rein that there was something wrong in 
the step, and they would have got down and picked 
out the stone. But this man went on laughing and 
talking, whilst at every step the stone became more 
firmly wedged between my shoe and the frog of my 
foot. The stone was sharp on the inside and round 
on the outside, which, as every one knows, is the most 
dangerous kind that a horse can pick up ; at the same 
time cutting his foot, and making him most liable to 
stumble and fall. 

Whether the man was partly blind, or only very 
careless, I can’t say ; but he drove me with that stone 
in my foot for a good half-mile before he saw any- 
thing. By that time I was going so lame with the 


146 Black Beauty. 

pain, that at last he saw it and called out, "Well, 
here’s a go ! Why they have sent us out with a lame 
horse ! What a shame ! ” 

He then chucked the reins and flipped about with 
the whip, saying, “ Now then, it’s no use playing the 
old soldier with me ; there’s the journey to go, and 
it’s no use turning lame and lazy.” 

Just at this time a farmer came riding up on a 
brown cob ; he lifted his hat and pulled up. 

“I beg your pardon, sir,” he said, “but I think 
there is something the matter with your horse, he 
goes very much as if he had a stone in his shoe. If 
you will allow me, I will look at his feet ; these loose 
scattered stones are confounded dangerous things for 
the horses.” 

“ He’s a hired horse,” said my driver ; " I don’t 
know what’s the matter with him, but it’s a great 
shame to send out a lame beast like this.” 

The farmer dismounted, and slipping his rein over 
his arm, at once took up my near foot. 

“ Bless me, there’s a stone ! lame ! I should think 
so!’' 

At first he tried to dislodge it with his hand, but as 
it was now very tightly wedged, he drew a stone-pick 
out of his pocket, and very carefully, and with some 
trouble, got it out. Then holding it up, he said, 
“ There, that’s the stone your horse had picked up ; 
it is a wonder he did not fall down and break his 
knees into the bargain ! ” 

“ Well, to be sure I ” said my driver, " that is a queer 


A Job Horse and His Drivers. 147 

thing! I never knew that horses picked up stones 
before.” 

“Didn’t you?” said the farmer, rather contemp- 
tuously ; “ but they do, though, and the best of them 
will do it, and can’t help it sometimes on such roads 
as these. And if you don’t want to lame your horse, 
you must look sharp and get them out quickly. This 
foot is very much bruised,” he said, setting it gently 
down and patting me. “ If I might advise, sir, you 
had better drive him gently for a while ; the foot is 
a good deal hurt, and the lameness will not go off 
directly.” 

Then mounting his cob and raising his hat to the 
lady, he trotted off*. 

When he was gone, my driver began to flop the 
reins about, and whip the harness, by which I under- 
stood that I was to go on, which of course I did, glad 
that the stone was gone, but still in a good deal of 
pain. 

This was the sort of experience we job-horses often 
came in for. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 


COCKNEYS. 

T hen there is the steam-engine style of driving ; 
these drivers were mostly people from towns, 
who never had a horse of their own, and 
generally travelled by rail. 

They always seemed to think that a horse was 
something like a steam-engine, only smaller. At any 
rate, they think that if only they pay for it, a horse is 
bound to go just as far, and just as fast, and with just 
as heavy a load as they please. And be the roads 
heavy and muddy, or dry and good ; be they stony 
or smooth, up-hill or down-hill, it is all the same — on, 
on, on, one must go at the same pace, with no relief, 
and no consideration. 

These people never think of getting out to walk up 
a steep hill. Oh, no, they have paid to ride, and ride 
they will ! The horse ? Oh, he’s used to it ! What 
were horses made for, if not to drag people up-hill ? 
Walk ! A good joke indeed ! And so the whip is 
plied and the rein is chucked, and often a rough 
scolding voice cries out, “ Go along, you lazy beast 1 ” 







149 


Cockneys. 

And then another slash of the whip, when all the 
time we are doing our very best to get along, uncom- 
plaining and obedient, though often sorely harassed 
and down-hearted. 

This steam-engine style of driving wears us up 
faster than any other kind. I would far rather go 
twenty miles with a good considerate driver, than I 
would go ten with some of these ; it would take less 
out of me. 

Another thing — they scarcely ever put on the drag, 
however steep the down-hill may be, and thus bad 
accidents sometimes happen ; or if they do put it on, 
they often forget to take it off at the bottom of the 
hill ; and more than once, I have had to pull half-way 
up the next hill, with one of the wheels lodged fast in 
the drag-shoe, before my driver chose to think about 
it ; and that is a terrible strain on a horse. 

Then these Cockneys, instead of starting at an easy 
pace as a gentleman would do, generally set off at full 
speed from the very stable yard ; and when they want 
to stop, they first whip us and then pull up so 
suddenly, that we are nearly thrown on our haunches, 
and our mouths jagged with the bit ; they call that 
pulling up with a dash ! and when they turn a corner, 
they do it as sharply as if there were no right side or 
wrong side of the road. 

I well remember one spring evening I and Rory 
iiad been out for the day. (Rory was the horse that 
mostly went with me when a pair was ordered, and a 
good honest fellow he was.) We had our own driver, 


Black Beauty, 


150 

and as he was always considerate and gentle with us, 
we had a very pleasant day. We were coming home 
at a good smart pace about twilight ; our road turned 
sharp to the left ; but as we were close to the hedge 
on our own side, and there was plenty of room to 
pass, our driver did not pull us in. As we neared the 
corner I heard a horse and two wheels coming rapidly 
down the hill towards us. The hedge was high and I 
could see nothing, but the next moment we were 
upon each other. Happily for me, I was on the side 
next the hedge. Rory was on the right side of the 
pole, and had not even a shaft to protect him. The 
man who was driving, was making straight for the 
corner, and when he came in sight of us he had no 
time to pull over to his own side. The whole shock 
came upon Rory. The gig shaft ran right into the 
chest, making him stagger back with a cry that I 
shall never forget. The other horse was thrown upon 
his haunches, and one shaft broken. It turned out 
that it was a horse from our own stables, with the 
high-wheeled gig, that the young men were so fond 
of. 

The driver was one of those random, ignorant 
fellows, who don’t even know which is their own side 
of the road, or if they know, don’t care. And there 
was poor Rory with his flesh torn open and bleeding, 
and the blood streaming down. They said if it had 
been a little more to one side, it would have killed 
him ; and a good thing for him, poor fellow, if it had 

As it was, it was a long time before the wound 


Cockneys, 


151 

healed, and then he was sold for coal carting; and 
what that is, up and down those steep hills, only 
horses know. Some of the sights I saw there, where 
a horse had to come down-hill with a heavily-loaded 
two- wheel cart behind him, on which no drag could 
be placed, make me sad even now to think of. 

After Rory was disabled, I often went in the 
carriage with a mare named Peggy, who stood in 
the next stall to mine. She was a strong, well-made 
animal, of a bright dun colour, beautifully dappled, 
and with a dark-brown mane and tail. There was no 
high breeding about her, but she was very pretty, and 
remarkably sweet-tempered and willing. Still, there 
was an anxious look about her eye, by which I knew 
that she had some trouble. The first time we went 
out together I thought she had a very odd pace ; she 
seemed to go partly in a trot, partly in a canter — 
three or four paces, and then to make a little jump 
forward. 

It was very unpleasant for any horse who pulled 
with her, and made me quite fidgety. When we got 
home, I asked her what made her go in that odd, 
awkward way. 

“ Ah,” she said in a troubled manner, I know my 
paces are very bad, but what can I do ? It really is 
not my fault, it is just because my legs are so short. 
! stand nearly as high as you, but your legs are a 
good three inches longer above your knees than mine, 
and of course you can take a much longer step, and go 
much faster. You see I did not make myself; I wish 


152 


Black Beauty, 


I could have done so, I would have had long legs 
then ; all my troubles come from my short legs,” said 
Peggy, in a desponding tone. 

“ But how is it,” I said, “ when you are so strong 
and good-tempered and willing?” 

“ Why you see,” said she, “ men will go so fast, and 
if one can’t keep up to other horses, it is nothing but 
whip, whip, whip, all the time. And so I have had to 
keep up as I could, and have got into this ugly 
shuffling pace. It was not always so ; when I lived 
with my first master I always went a good regular 
trot, but then he was not in such a hurry. He was a 
young clergyman in the country, and a good kind 
master he was. He had two churches a good way 
apart, and a great deal of work, but he never scolded 
or whipped me for not going faster. He was very 
fond of me. I only wish I was with him now ; but 
he had to leave and go to a large town, and then I 
was sold to a farmer. 

“Some farmers, you know, are capital masters ; but 
I think this one was a low sort of man. He cared 
nothing about good horses, or good driving ; he only 
cared for going fast. I went as fast as I could, but 
that would not do, and he was always whipping ; so I 
got into this way of making a spring forward to keep 
up. On market nights he used to stay very late at 
the inn, and then drive home at a gallop. 

“ One dark night he was galloping home as usual, 
when all on a sudden the wheel came against some 
great heavy thing in the road, and turned the gig 


Cockneys, 153 

over in a minute. He was thrown out and his arm 
broken, and some of his ribs, I think. At any rate, 
it was the end of my living with him, and I was not 
sorry. But you see it will be the same everywhere 
for me, if men must go so fast I wish my legs were 
longer ! ’* 

Poor Peggy ! I was very sorry for her, and I could 
not comfort her, for I knew how hard it was upon 
slow-paced horses to be put with fast ones ; all the 
whipping comes to their share, and they can’t help it 

She was often used in the phaeton, and was very 
much liked by some of the ladies, because she was so 
gentle ; and some time after this she was sold to two 
ladies who dro'^e themselves, and wanted a safe good 
horse. ^ 

I met her several times out in the country, going a 
good steady pace, and looking as gay and contented 
as a horse could be. I was very glad to see her, for 
she deserved a good place. 

After she left us, another horse came in her stead. 
He was young, and had a bad name for shying and 
starting, by which he had lost a good place. 1 asked 
him what made him shy. 

“ Well, I hardly know,” he said ; " I was timid 
when I was young, and was a good deal frightened 
several times, and if I saw anything strange, I used 
to turn and look at it — you see, with our blinkers one 
can’t see or understand what a thing is unless one 
looks round ; and then my master always gave me a 
whipping, which of course made me start on, and did 


1 54 Black Beauty. 

not make me less afraid. I think if he would have let 
me just look at things quietly, and see that there was 
nothing to hurt me, it would have been all right, and 
I should have got used to them. One day an old 
gentleman was riding with him, and a large piece of 
white paper or rag blew across just on one side of 
me ; I shied and started forward — my master as usual 
whipped me smartly, but the old man cried out, 
‘You’re wrong! you’re wrong! you should never 
whip a horse for shying: he shies because he is 
frightened, and you only frighten him more, and 
make the habit worse.’ So I suppose all men don’t 
do so. I am sure I don’t want to shy for the sake of 
it ; but how should one know what is dangerous and 
what is not, if one is never allowed to get used to 
anything? I am never afraid of what I know. Now 
I was brought up in a park where there were deer ; 
of course, I knew them as well as I did a sheep or a 
cow, but they are not common, and I know many 
sensible horses who are frightened at them, and who 
kick up quite a shindy before they will pass a paddock 
where there are deer.’* 

I knew what my companion said was true, and I 
wished that every young horse had as good masters 
as Farmer Grey and Squire Gordon. 

Of course we sometimes came in for good driving 
here. I remember one morning I was put into the 
light gig, and taken to a house in Pulteney Street. 
Two. gentlemen came out ; the taller of them came 
round to my head, he looked at the bit and bridle, 


Cockneys. 155 

and just shifted the collar with his hand, to see if it 
fitted comfortably. 

“ Do you consider this horse wants a curb ? ” he 
said to the ostler. 

“ Well,” said the man, “ I should say he would go 
just as well without, he has an uncommon good 
mouth, and though he has a fine spirit, he has no 
vice ; but we generally find people like the curb.” 

“ I don’t like it,” said the gentleman : “ be so good 
as to take it off, and put the rein in at the cheek ; an 
easy mouth is a great thing on a long journey, is it 
not, old fellow ? ” he said, patting my neck. 

Then he took the reins, and they both got up. I 
can remember now how quietly he turned me round, 
and then with a light feel of the rein, and drawing 
the whip gently across my back, we were off. 

I arched my neck and set off at my best pace. I 
found I had someone behind me who knew how a 
good horse ought to be driven. It seemed like old 
times again, and made me feel quite gay. 

This gentleman took a great liking to me, and after 
trying me several times with the saddle, he prevailed 
upon my master to sell me to a friend of his, who 
wanted a safe pleasant horse for riding. And so it 
came to pass that in the summer I was sold to Mr. 
Barry, 


CHAPTER XXX, 


A THIEF, 

M y new master was an unmarried man. He 
lived at Bath, and was much engaged in 
business. His doctor advised him to take 
horse exercise, and for this purpose he bought me. 
He hired a stable a short distance from his lodgings, 
and engaged a man named Filcher as groom. My 
master knew very little about horses, but he treated 
me well, and I should have had a good and easy 
place, but for circumstances of which he was ignorant. 
He ordered the best hay with plenty of oats, crushed 
beans, and bran, with vetches, or rye grass, as the 
man might think needful. I heard the master give 
the order, so I knew there was plenty of good food, 
and I thought I was well off. 

For a few days all went on well ; I found that my 
groom understood his business. He kept the stable 
clean and airy, and he groomed me thoroughly ; and 
was never otherwise than gentle. He had been an 
ostler in one of the great hotels in Bath. He had 
given that up, and now cultivated fruit and vegetables 


157 


A Thief. 

for the market ; and his wife bred and fattened poultry 
and rabbits for sale. After a while it seemed to me 
that my oats came very short ; I had the beans, but 
bran was mixed with them instead of oats, of which 
there were very few; certainly not more than a 
quarter of what there should have been. In two or 
three weeks this began to tell upon my strength and 
spirits. The grass food, though very good, was not 
the thing to keep up my condition without corn. 
However, I could not complain, nor make known my 
wants. So it went on for about two months ; and I 
wondered my master did not see that something was 
the matter. However, one afternoon he rode out 
into the country to see a friend of his — a gentleman 
farmer, who lived on the road to Wells. This gentle- 
man had a very quick eye for horses ; and after he had 
welcomed his friend, he said, casting his eye over me — 
“It seems to me, Barry, that your horse does not 
look so well as he did when you first had him ; has 
he been well ? ” 

“Yes, I believe so,” said my master, “but he is not 
nearly so lively as he was ; my groom tells me that 
horses are always dull and weak in the autumn, and 
that I must expect it” 

“ Autumn ! fiddlestick ! ” said the farmer ; “ why 
this is only August ; and with your light work and 
good food he ought not to go down like this, even if 
it was autumn. How do you feed him ? ” 

My master told him. The other shook his head 
slowly, and began to feel me over. 


158 Black Beauty » 

** I can’t say who eats your corn, my dear fellow, 
but I am much mistaken if your horse gets it. Have 
you ridden very fast ? ” 

“ No ! very gently.” 

Then just put your hand here,” said he, passing 
his hand over my neck and shoulder ; he is as warm 
and damp as a horse just come up from grass. I 
advise you to look into your stable a little more. I 
hate to be suspicious, and, thank heaven, I have no 
cause to be, for I can trust my men, present or absent ; 
but there are mean scoundrels, wicked enough to rob 
a dumb beast of his food ; you must look into it.” 
And turning to his man who had come to take me, 
“Give this horse a right good feed of bruised cats, 
and don’t stint him.” 

“ Dumb beasts ! ” yes, we are ; but if I could have 
spoken, I could have told my master where his oats 
went to. My groom used to come every morning 
about six o’clock, and with him a little boy, who 
always had a covered basket with him. He used to 
go with his father into the harness room where the 
corn was kept, and I could see them when the door 
stood ajar, fill a little bag with oats out of the bin, 
and then he used to be off. 

Five or six mornings after this, just as the boy had 
left the stable, the door was pushed open and a police- 
man walked in, holding the child tight by the arm ; 
another policeman followed, and locked the door on 
the inside, saying, “ Show me the place where your 
father keeps his rabbits’ food.” 


159 


A Thief. 

The boy looked very frightened and began to cry ; 
but there was no escape, and he led the way to the 
corn-bin. Here the policeman found another empty 
bag like that which was found full of oats in the boy’s 
basket. 

Filcher was cleaning my feet at the time, but they 
soon saw him, and though he blustered a good deal, 
they walked him off to the “lock-up,” and his boy 
with him. I heard afterwards, that the boy was not 
held to be guilty, but the maa was sentenced to prison 
for two months. 




CHAPTER XXXI. 


A HUMBUG, 

M y master was not immediately suited, but in a 
few days my new groom came. He was a 
tall, good-looking fellow enough ; but if ever 
there was a humbug in the shape of a groom, Alfred 
Smirk was the man. He was very civil to me, and 
never used me ill ; in fact, he did a great deal of 
stroking and patting, when his master was there to 
see it. He always brushed my mane and tail with 
water, and my hoofs with oil before he brought me to 
the door, to make me look smart ; but as to cleaning 
my feet, or looking to my shoes, or grooming me 
thoroughly, he thought no more of that than if I had 
been a cow. He left my bit rusty, my saddle damp, 
and my crupper stiff. 

Alfred Smirk considered himself very handsome ; 
he spent a great deal of time about his hair, whiskers, 
and necktie, before a little looking-glass in the harness 
room. When his master was speaking to him, it was 
always, “Yes, sir ; yes, sir;” touching his hat at 
every word ; and every one thought he was a very 


A Humbug. i6i 

nice young man, and that Mr. Barry was very 
fortunate to meet with him. I should say he was 
the laziest, most conceited fellow I ever came near. 
Of course it was a great thing not to be ill-used, but 
then a horse wants more than that. I had a loose 
box, and might have been very comfortable if he had 
not been too indolent to clean it out. He never took 
all the straw away, and the smell from what lay 
underneath was very bad ; while the strong vapours 
that rose up, made my eyes smart and inflame, and I 
did not feel the same appetite for my food. 

One day his master came in and said, “ Alfred, the 
stable smells rather strong ; should not you give that 
stall a good scrub, and throw down plenty of 
water ? ” 

“ Well, sir,” he said, touching his cap, “ I’ll do so if 
you please, sir, but it is rather dangerous, sir, throwing 
down water in a horse’s box, they are very apt to 
take cold, sir. I should not like to do him an injury, 
but I’ll do it if you please, sir.” 

“ Well,” said his master, “ I should not like him to 
take cold, but I don’t like the smell of this stable ; do 
you think the drains are all right ? ” 

“ Well, sir, now you mention it, I think the drain 
does sometimes send back a smell ; there may be 
something wrong, sir.” 

“ Then send for the bricklayer and have it seen to,” 
said his master. 

“ Yes, sir, I will.” 

The bricklayer came and pulled up a great many 


i 62 


Black Beauty, 


bricks, and found nothing amiss ; so he put down 
some lime and charged the master five shillings, and 
the smell in my box was as bad as ever: but that 
was not all — standing as I did on a quantity of moist 
straw, my feet grew unhealthy and tender, and the 
master used to say — 

“ I don’t know what is the matter with this horse, 
he goes very fumble-footed. I am sometimes afraid 
he will stumble.” 

“Yes, sir,” said Alfred, “I have noticed the same 
myself, when I have exercised him.” 

Now the fact was, that he hardly ever did exercise 
me, and when the master was busy, I often stood for 
days together without stretching my legs at all, and 
yet being fed just as high as if I were at hard work. 
This often disordered my health, and made me 
sometimes heavy and dull, but more often restless and 
feverish. He never even gave me a meal of green 
me^at, or a bran mash, which would have cooled me, for 
he was altogether as ignorant as he was conceited ; 
and then, instead of exercise or change of food, I had 
to take horse balls and draughts ; which, beside the 
nuisance of having them poured down my throat, 
used to make me feel ill and uncomfortable. 

One day my feet were so tender, that trotting over 
some fresh stones with my master on my back, I 
made two such serious stumbles, that as he came 
down Lansdown into the city, he stopped at the 
farrier’s, and asked him to see what was the matter 
with me. The man took up my feet one by one and 


A Humbug. 163 

examined them ; then standing up and dusting his 
hands one against the other, he said — 

“Your horse has got the ‘thrush,’ and badly too; 
his feet are very tender ; it is fortunate that he has 
not been down. I wonder your groom has not seen 
to it before. This is the sort of thing we find in foul 
stables, where the litter is never properly cleared out. 
If you will send him here to-morrow, I will attend to 
the hoof, and I will direct your man how to apply the 
liniment which I will give him.” 

The next day I had my feet thoroughly cleansed 
and stuffed with tow, soaked in some strong lotion ; 
and a very unpleasant business it was. 

The farrier ordered all the litter to be taken out of 
my box day by day, and the floor kept very clean. 
Then I was to have bran mashes, a little green meat, 
and not so much corn, till my feet were well again. 
With this treatment I soon regained my spirits, but 
Mr. Barry was so much disgusted at being twice 
deceived by his grooms, that he determined to give 
up keeping a horse, and to hire when he wanted one. 
I was therefore kept till my feet were quite sound, 
and was then sold again* 


PART III, 


CHAPTER XXXIL 

A HORSE FAIR. 

N O doubt a horse fair is a very amusing place to 
those who have nothing to lose ; at any rate, 
there is plenty to see. 

Long strings of young horses out of the country, 
fresh from the marshes ; and droves of shaggy little 
Welsh ponies, no higher than Merrylegs ; and 
hundreds of cart horses of all sorts, some of them 
with their long tails braided up, and tied with scarlet 
cord ; and a good many like myself, handsome and 
high-bred, but fallen into the middle class, through 
some accident or blemish, unsoundness of wind, or 
some other complaint There were some splendid 
animals quite in their prime, and fit for anything ; 
they were throwing out their legs and shewing off 
their paces in high style, as they were trotted out 
with a leading rein, the groom running by the side. 
But round in the background there were a number of 
poor things, sadly broken down with hard work ; with 



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A Horse Fair. 


165 


their knees knuckling over, and their hind legs 
swinging out at every step ; and there were some 
very dejected-looking old horses, with the under lip 
hanging down, and the ears laying back heavily, as if 
there was no more pleasure in life, and no more hope ; 
there were some so thin, you might see all their ribs, 
and some with old sores on their backs and hips ; 
these were sads sights for a horse to look upon, who 
knows not but he may come to the same state. 

There was a great deal of bargaining ; of running 
up and beating down, and if a horse may speak his 
mind so far as he understands, I should say, there 
were more lies told, and more trickery at that horse 
fair, than a clever man could give an account of. I 
was put with two or three other strong, useful-looking 
horses, and a good many people came to look at us. 
The gentlemen always turned from me when they 
saw my broken knees ; though the man who had me 
swore it was only a slip in the stall. 

The first thing was to pull my mouth open, then to 
look at my eyes, then feel all the way down my legs, 
and give me a hard feel of the skin and flesh, and 
then try my paces. It was wonderful what a 
difference there was in the way these things were 
done. Some did it in a rough off-hand way, as if one 
was only a piece of wood ; while others would take 
their hands gently over one’s body, with a pat now 
and then, as much as to say, “ by your leave.” Of 
course I judged a good deal of the buyers by their 
manners to myself. 


Black Beauty. 


1 66 

There was one man, I thought, if he would buy me, 
I should be happy. He was not a gentleman, nor 
yet one of the loud flashy sort that called themselves 
so. He was rather a small man, but well made, and 
quick in all his motions. I knew in a moment by the 
way he handled me, that he was used to horses ; he 
spoke gently, and his grey eye had a kindly, cheery 
look in it. It may seem strange to say — but it is 
true all the same — that the clean fresh smell there 
was about him made me take to him ; no smell of old 
beer and tobacco, which I hated, but a fresh smell as 
if he had come out of a hayloft He offered twenty- 
three pounds for me; but that was refused, and he 
walked away. I looked after him, but he was gone, 
and a very hard -looking, loud-voiced man came; I 
was dreadfully afraid he would have me ; but he 
walked off. One or two more came who did not 
mean business. Then the hard-faced man came back 
again and offered twenty-three pounds. A very close 
bargain was being driven ; for my salesman began to 
think he should not get all he asked, and must come 
down ; but just then the grey-eyed man came back 
again. I could not help reaching out my head 
towards him. He stroked my face kindly. 

“Well, old chap,” he said, “ I think we should suit 
each other. I’ll give twenty-four for him.” 

“ Say twenty-five and you shall have him.’* 

“Twenty-four ten,” said my friend, in a very 
decided tone, “and not another sixpence — ^yes or 
no?” 


A Horse Fair. 


167 


** Done,” said the salesman, “ and you may depend 
upon it there’s a monstrous deal of quality in that 
horse, and if you want him for cab work, he’s a 
bargain.” 

The money was paid on the spot, and my new 
master took my halter, and led me out of the fair to 
an inn, where he had a saddle and bridle ready. He 
gave me a good feed of oats, and stood by whilst I 
ate it, talking to himself, and talking to me. Half- 
an-hour after we were on our way to London, through 
pleasant lanes and country roads, until we came into 
the great London thoroughfare, on which we travelled 
steadily, till in the twilight, we reached the great 
City. The gas lamps were already lighted ; there 
were streets to the right, and streets to the left, and 
streets crossing each other for mile upon mile. I 
thought we should never come to the end of them. 
At last, in passing through one, we came to a long 
cab stand, when my rider called out in a cheery voice, 
“ Good night. Governor ! ” 

“ Halloo 1” cried a voice, “have you got a good 
one ? ” 

“ I think so,” replied my owner. 

“ I wish you luck with him.” 

“Thank ye. Governor,” and he rode on. We soon 
turned up one of the side streets, and about half way 
up that, we turned into a very narrow street, with 
rather poor-looking houses on one side, and what 
seemed to be coach-houses and stables on the other. 

My owner pulled up at one of the houses and 


i68 


Black Beauty. 


whistled. The door flew open, and a young woman, 
followed by a little girl and boy, ran out. There was 
a very lively greeting as my rider dismounted. 

" Now then, Harry, my boy, open the gates, and 
mother will bring us the lantern.” 

The next minute they were all standing round me 
in a small stable yard. 

“ Is he gentle, father?” 

“Yes, Dolly, as gentle as your own kitten; come 
and pat him.” 

At once the little hand was patting about all over 
my shoulder without fear. How good it felt ! 

“ Let me get him a bran mash while you rub him 
down,” said the mother. 

“Do, Polly, it’s just what he wants, and I know 
you’ve got a beautiful mash ready for me.” 

“ Sausage dumpling and apple turnover,” shouted 
the boy, which set them all laughing. I was led intf 
a comfortable clean-smelling stall with plenty of dry 
straw, and after a capital supper, 1 lay down, thinking 
I was going to be happy. 


CHAPTER XXXIIL 


A LONDON CAB HORSE. 

M y new master’s name was Jeremiah Barker, but 
as every one called him Jerry, I shall do the 
same. Polly, his wife, was just as good a 
match as a man could have. She was a plump, trim, 
tidy little woman, with smooth dark hair, dark eyes, 
and a merry little mouth. The boy was nearly twelve 
years old ; a tall, frank, good-tempered lad ; and 
little Dorothy (Dolly they called her) was her mother 
over again, at eight years old. They were all 
wonderfully fond of each other ; I never knew such a 
happy, merry family before, or since. Jerry had a 
cab of his own, and two horses, which he drove and 
attended to himself. His other horse was a tall, 
white, rather large-boned animal, called Captain ; he 
was old now, but when he was young, he must have 
been splendid ; he had still a proud way of holding 
his head, and arching his neck ; in fact, he was a 
high-bred, fine-mannered, noble old horse, every inch 
of him. He told me that in his early youth he went 
to the Crimean War ; he belonged to an officer in the 


170 Black Beauty. 

Cavalry, and used to lead the regiment ; I will tell 
more of that hereafter. 

The next morning, when I was well groomed, Polly 
and Dolly came into the yard to see me, and make 
friends. Harry had been helping his father since the 
early morning, and had stated his opinion that I 
should turn out “ a regular brick.” Polly brought me 
a slice of apple, and Dolly a piece of bread, and made 
as much of me as if I had been the “ Black Beauty ” 
of olden time. It was a great treat to be petted 
again, and talked to in a gentle voice, and I let them 
see as well as I could that I wished to be friendly. 
Polly thought I was very handsome, and a great deal 
too good for a cab, if it was not for the broken knees. 

“Of course, there’s no one to tell us whose fault 
that was,” said Jerry, “and as long as I don’t know, I 
shall give him the benefit of the doubt ; for a firmer, 
neater stepper I never rode; we’ll call him ‘Jack,* 
after the old one— shall we, Polly?” 

“ Do,” she said, “ for I like to keep a good name 
going.” 

Captain went out in the cab all the morning. 
Harry came in after school to feed me and give me 
water. In the afternoon I was put into the cab. 
Jerry took as much pains to see if the collar and 
bridle fitted comfortably, as if he had been John 
Manly over again. When the crupper was let out a 
hole or two, it all fitted well. There was no bearing 
rein — no curb — nothing but a plain ring snaffle. 
What a blessing that was ! 


A London Cab Horse. 17 1 

After driving through the side street we came to 
the large cab stand where Jerry had said “ Good- 
night.” On one side of this wide street were high 
houses with wonderful shop fronts, and on the other, 
was an old church and churchyard, surrounded by 
iron pallisades. Alongside these iron rails a number 
of cabs were drawn up, waiting for passengers : bits 
of hay were lying about on the ground ; some of 
the men were standing together talking ; some were 
sitting on their boxes reading the newspaper ; and 
one or two were feeding their horses with bits of hay, 
and a drink of water. We pulled up in the rank at 
the back of the last cab. Two or three men came 
round and began to look at me and pass their 
remarks. 

“ Very good for a funeral,” said one. 

“ Too smart-looking,” said another, shaking his 
head in a very wise way ; “ you’ll find out something 
wrong one of these fine mornings, or my name isn’t 
Jones.” 

“Well,” said Jerry pleasantly, “I suppose I need 
not find it out till it finds me out ; eh ? and if so, I’ll 
keep up my spirits a little longer.” 

Then came up a broad-faced man, dressed in a 
great grey coat with great grey capes, and great 
white buttons, a grey hat, and a blue comforter 
loosely tied round his neck ; his hair was grey too, 
but he was a jolly-looking fellow, and the other men 
made way for him. He looked me all over, as if he 
had been going to buy me; and then straightening 


172 


Black Beauty, 


himself up with a grunt, he said, “ He’s the right sort 
for you, Jerry ; I don’t care what you gave for him, 
he’ll be worth it.” Thus my character was established 
on the stand. 

This man’s name was Grant, but he was called 
“Grey Grant,” or “Governor Grant.” He had been 
the longest on that stand of any of the men, and he 
took it upon himself to settle matters, and stop 
disputes. He was generally a good-humoured, 
sensible man ; but if his temper was a little out, as it 
was sometimes, when he had drunk too much, nobody 
liked to come too near his fist, for he could deal a 
very heavy blow. 

The first week of my life as a cab horse was very 
trying ; I had never been used to London, and the 
noise, the hurry, the crowds of horses, carts, and 
carriages, that I had to make my way through, made 
me feel anxious and harassed ; but I soon founq that 
I could perfectly trust my driver, and then I made 
myself easy, and got used to it. 

Jerry was as good a driver as I had ever known ; 
and what was better, he took as much thought for his 
horses as he did for himself. He soon found out that 
I was willing to work, and do my best ; and he never 
laid the whip on me, unless it was gently drawing the 
end of it over my back, when I was to go on ; but 
generally I knew this quite well by the way in which 
he took up the reins ; and I believe his whip was 
more frequently stuck up by his side than in his 
hand. 


A London Cah Horse. 


173 


In a short time I and my master understood each 
other, as well as horse and man can do. In the 
stable, too, he did all that he could for our comfort. 
The stalls were the old-fashioned style, too much on 
the slope ; but he had two movable bars fixed across 
the back of our stalls, so that at night, and when we 
were resting, he just took off our halters, and put up 
the bars, and thus we could turn about and stand 
whichever way we pleased, which is a great comfort. 

Jerry kept us very clean, and gave us as much 
change of food as he could, and always plenty of it ; 
and not only that, but he always gave us plenty of 
clean fresh water, which he allowed to stand by us 
both night and day, except of course when we came 
in warm. Some people say that a horse ought not to 
drink all he likes ; but I know if we are allowed to 
drink when we want it, we drink only a little at a 
time, and it does us a great deal more good than 
swallowing down half a bucket full at a time, because 
we have been left without till we are thirsty and 
miserable. Some grooms will go home to their beer 
and leave us for hours with our dry hay and oats and 
nothing to moisten them ; then of course we gulp down 
too much at once, which helps to spoil our breathing 
and sometimes chills our stomachs. But the best 
thing that we had here was our Sundays for rest ; we 
worked so hard in the week, that I do not think we 
could have kept up to it, but for that day ; besides, we 
had then time to enjoy each other’s company. It was 
on these days that I learned my companion’s history. 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 

AN OLD WAR HORSB, 

C APTAIN had been broken in and trained for 
an army horse ; his first owner was an officer 
of cavalry going out to the Crimean War. He 
said he quite enjoyed the training with all the other 
horses, trotting together, turning together, to the 
right hand or to the left, halting at the word of 
command, or dashing forward at full speed at the 
sound of the trumpet, or signal of the officer. He 
was, when young, a dark, dappled iron grey, and 
considered very handsome. His master, a young, 
high-spirited gentleman, was very fond of him, and 
treated him from the first with the greatest care and 
kindness. He told me he thought the life of an army 
horse was very pleasant ; but when it came to being 
sent abroad, over the sea in a great ship, he almost 
changed his mind. 

“That part of it,*’ said he, “was dreadful! Of 
course we could not walk off the land into the ship ; 
so they were obliged to put strong straps under our 
bodies, and then we were lifted off our legs in spite of 


An Old War Horse. 


175 


our struggles, and were swung through the air over 
the water, to the deck of the great vessel. There we 
were placed in small close stalls, and never for a long 
time saw the sky, or were able to stretch our legs. 
The ship sometimes rolled about in high winds, and 
we were knocked about, and felt bad enough. How- 
ever, at last it came to an end, and we were hauled 
up, and swung over again to the land ; we were very 
glad, and snorted, and neighed for joy, when we once 
more felt firm ground under our feet. 

“We soon found that the country we had come to 
was very different to our own, and that we had many 
hardships to endure besides the fighting ; but many 
of the men were so fond of their horses, that they did 
every thing they could to make them comfortable, in 
spite of snow, wet, and all things out of order.” 

“ But what about the fighting ? ” said I ; “ was not 
that worse than anything else } ” 

“ Well,” said he, “ I hardly know ; we always liked 
to hear the trumpet sound, and to be called out, and 
were impatient to start off, though sometimes we had 
to stand for hours, waiting for the word of command ; 
and when the word was given, we used to spring 
forward as gaily and eagerly as if there were no 
cannon balls, bayonets, or bullets. I believe so long 
as we felt our rider firm in the saddle, and his hand 
steady on the bridle, not one of us gave way to fear, 
not even when the terrible bombshells whirled 
through the air and burst into a thousand pieces. 

“ I, with my noble master, went into many actions 


176 


Black Beauty, 


together without a wound ; and though I saw horses 
shot down with bullets, pierced through with lances, 
and gashed with fearful sabre-cuts ; though we left 
them dead on the field, or dying in the agony of their 
wounds, I don’t think I feared for myself. My 
master’s cheery voice, as he encouraged his men, 
made me feel as if he and I could not be killed. I 
had such perfect trust in him, that whilst he was 
guiding me, I was ready to charge up to the very 
cannon’s mouth. I saw many brave men cut down, 
many fall mortally wounded from their saddles. I 
had heard the cries and groans of the dying, I 
had cantered over ground slippery with blood, and 
frequently hac to turn aside to avoid trampling on 
wounded man or horse, but, until one dreadful day, I 
had never felt terror ; that day I shall never forget.” 

Here old Captain paused for a while and drew a 
long breath ; I waited, and he went on. 

“ It was one autumn morning, and as usual, an hour 
before daybreak our cavalry had turned out, ready 
caparisoned for the day’s work, whether it might be 
fighting or waiting. The men stood by their horses 
waiting, ready for orders. As the light increased, 
there seemed to be some excitement among the 
officers ; and before the day was well begun, we heard 
the firing of the enemy’s guns. 

“Then one of the officers rode up and gave the 
word for the men to mount, and in a second, every 
man was in his saddle, and every horse stood 
expecting the touch of the rein, or the pressure of his 


An Old War Horse. 


177 


rider’s heels, all animated, all eager ; but still we had 
been trained so well, that, except by the champing of 
our bits, and the restive tossing of our heads from 
time to time, it could not be said that we stirred. 

“ My dear master and I were at the head of the 
line, and as all sat motionless and watchful, he took a 
little stray lock of my mane which had turned over 
on the wrong side, laid it over on the right, and 
smoothed it down with his hand ; then patting my 
neck, he said, ‘ We shall have a day of it to-day, 
Bayard, my beauty ; but we’ll do our duty as we have 
done.’ He stroked my neck that morning, more, I 
think, than he had ever done before ; quietly on and 
on, as if he were thinking of something else. I loved 
to feel his hand on my neck, and arched my crest 
proudly and happily ; but I stood very still, for I 
knew all his moods, and when he liked me to be 
quiet, and when gay. 

“ I cannot tell all that happened on that day, but I 
will tell of the last charge that we made together : it 
was across a valley right in front of the enemy’s 
cannon. By this time we were well used to the roar 
of heavy guns, the rattle of musket fire, and the flying 
of shot near us ; but never had I been under such a 
fire as we rode through on that day. From the right, 
from the left, and from the front, shot and shell 
poured in upon us. Many a brave man went down, 
many a horse fell, flinging his rider to the earth ; 
many a horse without a rider ran wildly out of the 
ranks : then terrified at being alone with no hand to 


178 


Black Beauty. 


guide him, came pressing in amongst his old 
companions, to gallop with them to the charge. 

“ Fearful as it was, no one stopped, no one turned 
back. Every moment the ranks were thinned, but as 
our comrades fell, we closed in to keep them together ; 
and instead of being shaken or staggered in our pace, 
our gallop became faster and faster as we neared the 
cannon, all clouded in white smoke, while the red fire 
flashed through it. 

“ My master, my dear master was cheering on his 
comrades with his right arm raised on high, when one 
of the balls, whizzing close to my head, struck him. 
I felt him stagger with the shock, though he uttered 
no cry ; I tried to check my speed, but the sword 
dropped from his right hand, the rein fell loose from 
the left, and sinking backward from the saddle he fell 
to the earth ; the other riders swept past us, and by 
the force of their charge I was driven from the spot 
where he fell. 

“ I wanted to keep my place by his side, and not 
leave him under that rush of horses’ feet, but it was in 
vain ; and now, without a master or a friend, I was 
alone on that great slaughter ground ; then fear took 
hold on me, and I trembled as I had never trembled 
before ; and I too, as I had seen other horses do, tried 
to join in the ranks and gallop with them ; but I was 
beaten off by the swords of the soldiers. Just then, a 
soldier whose horse had been killed under him, 
caught at my bridle and mounted me ; and with this 
new master I was again going forward : but our 



yy 


“ALONE ON THAT GREAT SLAUGHTER GROUND 





w 



■ * 

• * 



i 


4 

' 4 

« 

r 



An Old War Horse. 


179 


gallant company was cruelly overpowered, and those 
who remained alive after the fierce fight for the guns, 
came galloping back over the same ground. Some of 
the horses had been so badly wounded that they 
could scarcely move from the loss of blood ; other 
noble creatures .were trying on three legs to drag 
themselves along, and others were struggling to rise 
on their fore feet, when their hind legs had been 
shattered by shot. Their groans were piteous to 
hear, and the beseeching look in their eyes as those 
who escaped passed by, and left them to their fate, I 
shall never forget. After the battle the wounded 
men were brought in, and the dead were buried.” 

“ And what about the wounded horses ? ” I said ; 
were they left to die ? ” 

“ No, the army farriers went over the field with 
their pistols, and shot all that were ruined ; some that 
had only slight wounds were brought back and 
attended to, but the greater part of the noble willing 
creatures that went out that morning, never came 
back! In our stables there was only about one in 
four that returned. 

“ I never saw my dear master again. I believe he 
fell dead from the saddle. I never loved any other 
master so well. I went into many other engagements, 
but was only once wounded, and then not seriously ; 
and when the war was over, I came back again to 
England, as sound and strong as when I went out.” 

I said, “ I have heard people talk about war as if it 
was a very fine thing.” 


i8o 


BlacTc Beauty, 


“ Ah ! ” said he, “ I should think they never saw it. 
No doubt it is very fine when there is no enemy, 
when it is just exercise and parade, and sham-fight. 
Yes, it is very fine then ; but when thousands of good 
brave men and horses are killed, or crippled for life, 
it has a very different look.” 

“ Do you know what they fought about ? ” said I. 

“No,” he said, “that is more than a horse can 
understand, but the enemy must have been awfully 
wicked people, if it was right to go all that way over 
the sea on purpose to kill them 


CHAPTER XXXV, 


/ERRY BARKER, 

I NEVER knew a better man than my new master; 
he was kind and good, and as strong for the 
right as John Manly ; and so good-tempered 
and merry, that very few people could pick a quarrel 
with him. He was very fond of making little songs, 
and singing them to himself. One, he was very fond 
of, was this — 


Come, father and mother. 

And sister and brother. 

Come, all of you, turn to 
And help one another.” 

And so they did ; Harry was as clever at stable- 
work as a much older boy, and always wanted to do 
what he could. Then Polly and Dolly used to come 
in the morning to help with the cab — to brush and 
beat the cushions, and rub the glass, while Jerry was 
giving us a cleaning in the yard, and Harry was 
rubbing the harness. There used to be a great deal 
of laughing and fun between them, and it put Captain 


1 82 Black Beauty, 

and me in much better spirits than if we had heard 
scolding and hard words. They were always early in 
the morning, for Jerry would say — 

“ If you in the morning 
Throw minutes away, 

You can’t pick them up 
In the course of the day. 

You may hurry and scurry, 

And flurry and worry, 

You’ve lost them for ever, 

For ever and aye.” 

He could not bear any careless loitering, and waste 
of time ; and nothing was so near making him angry, 
as to find people who were always late, wanting a cab 
horse to be driven hard, to make up for their idleness. 

One day, two wild-looking young men came out of 
a tavern close by the stand, and called Jerry. 

“ Here, cabby ! look sharp, we are rather late ; put 
on the steam, will you, and take us to the Victoria in 
time for the one o’clock train? You shall have a 
shilling extra.” 

“ I will take you at the regular pace, gentlemen ; 
shillings don’t pay for putting on the steam like 
that.” 

Larry’s cab was standing next to ours ; he flung 
open the door, and said, “ I’m your man, gentlemen ! 
take my cab, my horse will get you there all right ; ” 
and as he shut them in, with a wink towards Jerry, 
said, “ It’s against his conscience to go beyond a jog- 
trot” Then slashing his jaded horse, he set off as 


Jerry Barker, 


183 


hard as he could. Jerry patted me on the neck — 
“No, Jack, a shilling would not pay for that sort of 
thing, would it, old hoy?” 

Although Jerry was determinately set against hard 
driving, to please careless people, he always went a 
good fair pace, and was not against putting on the 
steam, as he said, if only he knew why. 

I well remember one morning, as we were on the 
stand waiting for a fare, that a young man, carrying a 
heavy portmanteau, trod on a piece of orange peel 
which lay on the pavement, and fell down with great 
force. 

Jerry was the first to run and lift him up. He 
seemed much stunned, and as they led him into a 
shop, he walked as if he were in great pain. Jerry 
of course came back to the stand, but in about ten 
minutes one of the shopmen called him, so we drew 
up to the pavement. 

“ Can you take me to the South-Eastern Railway? ” 
said the young man ; “ this unlucky fall has made me 
late, I fear ; but it is of great importance that I should 
not lose the twelve o’clock train. I should be most 
thankful if you could get me there in time, and will 
gladly pay you an extra fare.” 

“ I’ll do my very best,” said Jerry heartily, “if you 
think you are well enough, sir,” for he looked dread- 
fully white and ill. 

“ I must go,” he said, earnestly, “ please to open the 
door, and let us lose no time.” 

The next minute Jerry was on the box ; with a 


184 Black Beauty. 

cheery chirrup to me, and a twitch of the rein that I 
well understood. 

“Now then, Jack, my boy,” said he, “spin along, 
we’ll show them how we can get over the ground, if 
we only know why.” 

It is always difficult to drive fast in the city in the 
middle of the day, when the streets are full of traffic, 
but we did what could be done ; and when a good 
driver and a good horse, who understand each other, 
are of one mind, it is wonderful what they can do. I 
had a very good mouth — that is, I could be guided by 
the slightest touch of the rein, and that is a great 
thing in London, amongst carriages, omnibusses, carts, 
vans, trucks, cabs, and great waggons creeping along 
at a walking pace ; some going one way, some 
another, some going slowly, others wanting to pass 
them, omnibusses stopping short every few minutes 
to take up a passenger, obliging the horse that is 
coming behind to pull up too,- or to pass, and get 
before them : perhaps you try to pass, but just then, 
something else comes dashing in through the narrow 
opening, and you have to keep in behind the omnibus 
again ; presently you think you see a chance, and 
manage to get to the front, going so near the wheels 
on each side, that half-an-inch nearer and they would 
scrape. Well — you get along for a bit, but soon find 
yourself in a long train of carts and carriages all 
obliged to go at a walk ; perhaps you come to a 
regular block-up, and have to stand still for minutes 
together, till something clears out into a side street, 


Jerry BarTcer^ 


185 


or the policeman interferes : you have to be ready 
for any chance — to dash forward if there be an open- 
ing, and be quick as a. rat dog to see if there be room, 
and if there be time, lest you get your own wheels 
locked, or smashed, or the shaft of some other vehicle 
run into your chest or shoulder. All this is what you 
have to be ready for. If you want to get through 
London fast in the middle of the day, it wants a deal 
of practice. 

Jerry and I were used to it, and no one could beat 
us at getting through when we were set upon it. I 
was quick and bold, and could always trust my 
driver ; Jerry was quick, and patient at the same 
time, and could trust his horse, which was a great 
thing too. He very seldom used the whip ; I knew 
by his voice, and his click click, when he wanted to 
get on fast, and by the rein where I was to go ; so 
there was no need for whipping ; but I must go back 
to my story. 

The streets were very full that day, but we got on 
pretty well as far as the bottom of Cheapside, where 
there was a block for three or four minutes. The 
young man put his head out, and said anxiously, “ I 
think I had better get out and walk, I shall never get 
there if this goes on.” 

“ I’ll do all that can be done, sir,” said Jerry, “ I 
think we shall be in time ; this block-up cannot last 
much longer, and your luggage is very heavy for you 
to carry, sir.” 

Just then the cart in front of us began to move on, 


1 86 Black Beauty, 

and then we had a good turn. In and out — in and 
out we went, as fast as horseflesh could do it, and for 
a wonder had a good clear time on London Bridge, 
for there was a whole train of cabs and carriages, all 
going our way at a quick trot — perhaps wanting to 
catch that very train ; at any rate, we whirled into the 
station with many more, just as the great clock pointed 
to eight minutes to twelve o’clock. 

“ Thank God ! we are in time,” said the young man, 
“ and thank you too, my friend, and your good horse ; 
you have saved me more than money can ever pay 
for ; take this extra half-crown.” 

“No, sir, no, thank you all the same; so glad we 
hit the time, sir, but don’t stay now, sir, the bell is 
ringing. Here, porter ! take this gentleman’s luggage 
— Dover line — twelve o’clock train — that’s it,” and 
without waiting for another word, Jerry wheeled me 
round to make room for other cabs that were dashing 
up at the last minute, and drew up on one side till the 
crush was past. 

“ ‘ So glad ! ’ he said, ‘ so glad ! ’ poor young fellow ! 
I wonder what it was that made him so anxious ! ” 

Jerry often talked to himself quite loud enough for 
me to hear, when we were not moving. 

On Jerry’s return to the rank, there was a good 
deal of laughing and chaffing at him, for driving hard 
to the train for an extra fare, as they said, all against 
his principles ; and they wanted to know how much 
he had pocketed. 

“ A good deal more than I generally get,” said he, 


Jerry Barker. 187 

nodding slily ; “ what he gave me will keep me in 
little comforts for several days.” 

“ Gammon ! ” said one. 

“ He’s a humbug,” said another, “ preaching to us, 
and then doing the same himself.” 

“Look here, mates, said Jerry, “the gentleman 
offered me half-a-crown extra, ut I didn’t take it ; 
*twas quite pay enough for me, to see how glad he 
was to catch that train ; and if Jack and I choose to 
have a quick run now and then, to please ourselves, 
that’s our business nd not yours.” 

“ Well,” said Larry y 021' ll never be a rich man.” 

“Most likely not,” said Jerry “but I don’t know 
that I shall be the less happy for that. I have heard 
the commandments read a great many times, and I 
never noticed that any of them said, ‘ Thou shalt be 
rich ; ’ and there are a good many curious things said 
in the New Testament about rich men, that I think 
would make me feel rather queer if I was one of 
them.” 

“If you ever do get rich,” said Governor Gray, 
looking over his shoulder across the top of his cab, 
“you’ll deserve it, Jerry, and you won’t find a curse 
come with your wealth. As for you, Larry, you’ll die 
poor, you spend too much in whipcord.” 

“ Well,” said Larry, “ what is a fellow to do if his 
horse won’t go without it ? ” 

“You never take the trouble to see if he will go 
without it ; your whip is always going as if you had 
the St. Vitus’ dance in your arm ; and if it does not 


1 88 


BlacTc Beauty, 


wear you out, it wears your horse out ; you know you 
are always changing your horses, and why? because 
you never give them any peace or encouragement.” 

“Well, I have not had good luck,” said Larry, 
“ that’s where it is.” 

“ And you never will,” said the Governor ; “ Good 
Luck is rather particular who she rides with, and 
mostly prefers those who have got common sense and 
a good heart ; at least, that is my experience.” 

Governor Gray turned round again to his news- 
paper, and the other men went to their cabs. 


CHAPTER XXXVI. 

THE SUNDAY CAB, 

O NE morning, as Jerry had just put me into the 
shafts and was fastening the traces, a gentle- 
man walked into the yard. “Your servant, 
sir,” said Jerry. 

“ Good morning, Mr. Barker,” said the gentleman. 
I should be glad to make some arrangements with 
^you for taking Mrs. Briggs regularly to church on 
Sunday mornings. We go to the New Church now, 
and that is rather further than she can walk.” 

“Thank you, sir,” said Jerry, “but 1 have only 
taken out a six days’ licence,* and therefore I could 
not take a fare on a Sunday, it would not be legal.” 

“ Oh ! ” said the other, “ I did not know yours was 
a six days’ cab ; but of course it would be very easy 
to alter your licence. I would see that you did not 
lose by it ; the fact is, Mrs. Briggs very much prefers 
you to drive her.” 

* A few years since the annual charge for a cab licence was 
very much reduced, and the difference between the six and 
seven days’ cabs was abc lished. 


190 


BlacTc Beauty, 


“ I should be glad to oblige the lady, sir, but I had 
a seven days’ licence once, and the work was too hard 
for me, and too hard for my horses. Year in and 
year out, not a day’s rest, and never a Sunday with 
my wife and children, and never able to go to a place 
of worship, which I had always been used to do 
■ before I took to the driving box ; so for the last five 
years I have only taken a six days’ licence, and I find 
it better all the way round.” 

“Well, of course,” replied Mr. Briggs, “it is very 
proper that every person should have rest, and be 
able to go to church on Sundays, but I should have 
thought you would not have minded such a short 
distance for the horse, and only once a day ; you 
would have all the afternoon and evening for yourself, 
and we are very good customers, you know.” 

“ Yes, sir, that is true, and I am grateful for all 
favours, I am sure, and anything that I could do to 
oblige you, or the lady, I should be proud and happy 
to do ; but I can’t give up my Sundays, sir, indeed I 
can’t. I read that God made man, and He made 
horses and all the other beasts, and as soon as He 
had made them. He made a day of rest, and bade 
that all should rest one day in seven ; and I think, 
sir, He must have known what was good for them, 
and I am sure it is good for me ; I am stronger and 
healthier altogether, now that I have a day of rest ; 
the horses are fresh too, and do not wear up nearly so 
fast. The six-day drivers all tell me the same, and I 
have laid by more money in the Savings’ Bank than 


The Sunday CaK 19 1 

ever I did before ; and as for the wife and children, 
sir — why, heart alive ! they would not go back to the 
seven days for all they could see.” 

" Oh, very well,” said the gentleman. “ Don’t 
trouble yourself, Mr. Barker, any further; I will 
enquire somewhere else,” and he walked away. 

“Well,” says Jerry to me, “we can’t help it, Jack, 
old boy, we must have our Sundays.” 

“ Polly ! ” he shouted, “ Polly ! come here.” 

She was there in a minute. 

“ What is it all about, Jerry ? ’* 

“ Why, my dear, Mr. Briggs wants me to take Mrs. 
Briggs to church every Sunday morning. I say, I 
have only a six days’ licence. He says ‘ Get a seven 
days’ licence, and I’ll make it worth your while ; ’ and 
you know, Polly, they are very good customers to us. 
Mrs. Briggs often goes out shopping for hours, or 
making calls, and then she pays down fair and honour- 
able like a lady ; there’s no beating down, or making 
three hours into two hours and a half, as some folks 
do ; and it is easy work for the horses ; not like tear- 
ing along to catch trains for people that are always a 
quarter of an hour too late ; and if I don’t oblige her 
in this matter, it is very likely we shall lose them 
altogether. What do you say, little woman ? ” 

“I say, Jerry,” says she, speaking very slowly, “I 
say, if Mrs. Briggs would give you a sovereign every 
Sunday morning, I would not have you a seven days’ 
cabman again. We have known what it was to have 
no Sundays; and now we know what it is to call 


192 


Black Beauty, 


them our own. Thank God, you earn enough to keep 
us, though it is sometimes close work to pay for all 
the oats and hay, the licence, and the rent besides ; 
but Harry will soon be earning something, and I 
would rather struggle on harder than we do, than go 
back to those horrid times, when you hardly had a 
minute to look at your own children, and we never 
could go to a place of worship together, or have a 
happy, quiet day. God forbid that we should ever 
turn back to those times : that’s what I say, Jerry.” 

“ And that is just what I told Mr. Briggs, my dear,” 
said Jerry, “and what I mean to stick to; so don’t go 
and fret yourself, Polly (for she had begun to cry) ; I 
would not go back to the old times if I earned twice 
as much, so that is settled, little woman. Now cheer 
up, and I’ll be off to the stand.” 

Three weeks had passed away after this conversa- 
tion, and no order had come from Mrs. Briggs ; so 
there was nothing but taking jobs from the stand. 
Jerry took it to heart a good deal, for of course the 
work was harder for horse and man ; but Polly would 
always cheer him up and say, “ Never mind, father, 
never mind — 

Do your best, 

And leave the rest, 

*Twill all come right 
Some day or night.’* 

It soon became known that Jerry had lost his best 
customer, and for what reason ; most of the men said 
he was a fool, but two or three took his part. 


193 


The Sunday Cab, 

“ If working men don’t stick to their Sunday,” said 
Truman, “they’ll soon have none left; it is every man’s 
right and every beast’s right. By God’s law we have 
a day of rest, and by the law of England we have a 
day of rest ; and I say we ought to hold to the rights 
these laws give us, and keep them for our children.” 

“ All very well for you religious chaps to talk so,” 
said Larry, “but I’ll turn a shilling when I can. I 
don’t believe in religion, for I don’t see that your 
religious people are any better than the rest.” 

“If they are not better,” put in Jerry, “it is because 
they are not religious. You might as well say that 
our country’s laws are not good because some people 
break them. If a man gives way to his temper, and 
speaks evil of his neighbour, and does not pay his 
debts, he is not religious ; I don’t care how much he 
goes to church. If some men are shams and hum- 
bugs, that does not make religion untrue. Real 
religion is the best and the truest thing in the world ; 
and the only thing that can make a man really happy, 
or make the world any better.” 

“ If religion was good for anything,” said Jones, “it 
would prevent your religious people from making us 
work on Sundays as you know many of them do, and 
that’s why I say religion is nothing but a sham — why, 
if it was not for the church and chapel goers it would 
be hardly worth while our coming out on a Sunday ; 
but they have their privileges, as they call them, and 
I go without I shall expect them to answer for my 
soul, if I can’t get a chance of saving it.” 


194 


Black Beauty, 


Several of the men applauded this, till Jerry said— 

** That may sound well enough, but it won’t do ; 
every man must look after his own soul ; you can’t 
lay it down at another man’s door like a foundling, 
and expect him to take care of it ; and don’t you 
see, if you are always sitting on your box waiting for 
a fare, they will say, ‘ If we don’t take him, some one 
else will, and he does not look for any Sunday.’ Of 
course they don’t go to the bottom of it, or they 
would see if they never came for a cab, it would be 
no use your standing there ; but people don’t always 
like to go to the bottom of things ; it may not be 
convenient to do it ; but if you Sunday drivers would 
all strike for a day of rest, the thing would be done.” 

“ And what would all the good people do, if they 
could not get to their favourite preachers?” said 
Larry. 

“’Tis not for me to lay down plans for other 
people,” said Jerry, “but if they can’t walk so far, 
they can go to what is nearer ; and if it should rain 
they can put on their macintoshes as they do on a 
week-day. If a thing is right, it can be done, and if 
it is wrong, it can be done without ; and a good man 
will find a way ; and that is as true for us cabmen as 
it is for the church-goers,** 


CHAPTER XXXVII 


THE GOLDEN RULE. 

T WO or three weeks after this, as we came into 
the yard rather late in the evening, Polly came 
running across the road with the lantern (she 
always brought it to him if it was not very wet). ' 

“It has all come right, Jerry ; Mrs. Briggs sent her 
servant this afternoon, to ask you to take her out 
to-morrow at eleven o’clock. I said, ‘Yes, I thought 
so, but we supposed she employed someone else 
now.’ 

“ ‘ Well,* says he, ‘ the real fact is, master was put 
out because Mr. Barker refused to come on Sundays, 
and he has been trying other cabs, but there’s 
something wrong with them all ; some drive too fast, 
and some too slow, and the mistress says, there is not 
one of them so nice and clean as yours, and nothing 
will suit her but Mr. Barker’s cab again.* ** 

Polly was almost out of breath, and Jerry broke 
out into a merry laugh — 

“ All come right some day or night ; you were 
right, my dear ; you generally are. Run in and get 


196 


Black Beauty. 


the supper, and I’ll have Jack’s harness off and make 
him snug and happy in no time.” 

After this, Mrs. Briggs wanted Jerry’s cab quite as 
often as before, never, however, on a Sunday ; but 
there came a day when we had Sunday work, and 
this was how it happened. We had all come home 
on the Saturday night very tired, and very glad to 
think that the next day would be all rest, but so it 
was not to be. 

On Sunday morning Jerry was cleaning me in the 
yard, when Polly stepped up to him, looking very full 
of something. 

“What is it?” said Jerry, 

“ Well, my dear,” she said, “ poor Dinah Brown has 
just had a letter brought to say that her mother is 
dangerously ill, and that she must go directly if she 
wishes to see her alive. The place is more than ten 
miles away from here, out in the country, and she 
says if she takes the train she should still have four 
miles to walk ; and so weak as she is, and the baby 
only four weeks old, of course that would be 
impossible ; and she wants to know if you would 
take her in your cab, and she promises to pay you 
faithfully as she can get the money.” 

“Tut, tut, we’ll see about that. It was not the 
money I was thinking about, but of losing our 
Sunday ; the horses are tired, and I am tired too — 
that’s where it pinches.” 

“ It pinches all round, for that matter,” said Polly, 
“ for it’s only half Sunday without you, but you know 


The Golden Rule. 


197 


we should do to other people as we should like they 
should do to us ; and I know very well what I should 
like if my mother was dying; and Jerry, dear, I am 
sure it won’t break the Sabbath ; for if pulling a poor 
beast or donkey out of a pit would not spoil it, I am 
quite sure taking poor Dinah would not do it.” 

“ Why, Polly, you are as good as the minister, and 
so, as Pve had my Sunday morning sermon early 
to-day, you may go and tell Dinah that I’ll be ready 
for her as the clock strikes ten ; but stop — ^just step 
round to butcher Braydon’s with my compliments, 
and ask him if he would lend me his light trap ; 1 
know he never uses it on the Sunday, and it would 
make a wonderful difference to the horse.” 

Away she went, and soon returned, saying that he 
could have the trap and welcome. 

“ All right,” said he, “ now put me up a bit of bread 
and cheese, and I’ll be back in the afternoon as soon 
as I can.” 

“And I’ll have the meat pie ready for an early tea 
instead of for dinner ” said Polly ; and away she 
went, whilst he made his preparations to the tune of 
“ Polly’s the woman and no mistake,” of which tune 
he was very fond. 

I as selected for the journey, and at ten o’clock 
we started, in a light, high-wheeled gig, which ran so 
easily, that after the four-wheeled cab, it seemed like 
nothing. 

It was a fine May day, and as soon as we were out 
of the town, the sweet air, the smell of the fresh grass, 


Blach Beauty. 


198 

and the soft country roads wp' as pleasant as they 
used to be in the old times, a ^ soon began to feel 
quite fresh. 

Dinah’s family lived in a sm farmhouse, up a 
green lane, close by a meadow with some fine shady 
trees : there were two cows feeding in it. A young 
man asked Jerry to bring his trap into the meadow, 
and he would tie me up in the cowshed ; he wished 
he had a better stable to offer.. 

“ If your cows would not be offended,” said Jerry, 
“ there is nothing my horse would like so well as to 
have an hour or two in your beautiful meadow ; he’s 
quiet, and it would be a rare treat for him.” 

“ Do, and welcome,” said the young man ; “ the best 
we have is at your service for your kindness to my 
sister; we shall be having some dinner in an hour, 
and I hope you’ll come in, though with mother so ill 
we are all out of sorts in the house.” 

Jerry thanked him kindly, but said as he had some 
dinner with him, there was nothing he should like so 
well as walking about in the meadow. 

When my harness was taken off, I did not know 
what I should do first — whether to eat the grass, or 
roll over on my back, or lie down and rest, or have a 
gallop across the meadow out of sheer spirits at being 
free ; and I did all by turns. Jerry seemed to be 
quite as happy as I was ; he sat down by a bank 
under a shady tree, and listened to the birds, then he 
sang himself, and read out of the little brown book he 
is so fond of, then wandered round the meadow and 


The Golden Rule, 


199 


down by a little brd9?''where he picked the flowers 
and the hawthorn, a '"Bed them up with long sprays 
of ivy; then he g - i me a good feed of the oats 
which he had brou^^t with him ; but the time seemed 
all too short — I had not been in a field since I left 
poor Ginger at Earlshall. 

We came home gently, and Jerry’s first words were 
as we came into the yard, “ Well, Polly, I have not 
lost my Sunday after all, for the birds were singing 
hymns in every bush, and I joined in the service ; and 
as for Jack, he was like a young colt” 

When he handed Dolly the flowers, she jumped 
about for joy. 


CHAPTER XXXVIII. 


DOLLY AND A REAL GENTLEMAN 

T he winter came in early, with a great deal of 
cold and wet. There was snow, or sleet, or 
rain, almost every day for weeks, changing 
only for keen driving winds, or sharp frosts. The 
horses all felt it very much. When it is a dry cold, a 
couple of good thick rugs will keep the warmth in 
us ; but when it is soaking rain, they soon get wet 
through and are no good. Some of the drivers had a 
waterproof cover to throw over, which was a fine 
thing ; but some of the men were so poor that they 
could not protect either themselves or their horses, 
and many of them suffered very much that winter. 
When we horses had worked half the day we went 
to our dry stables, and could rest ; whilst they had to 
sit on their boxes, sometimes staying out as late as 
one or two o’clock in the morning, if they had a party 
to wait for. 

When the streets were slippery with frost or snow, 
that was the worst of all for us horses ; one mile of 
such travelling, with a weight to draw, and no firm 


201 


Dolly and a Real Gentleman, 

footing, would take more out of us than four on a 
good road ; every nerve and muscle of our bodies is 
on the strain to keep our balance; and added to 
this, the fear of falling is more exhausting than 
anything else. If the roads are very bad indeed, our 
shoes are roughed, but that makes us feel nervous at 
first. 

When the weather was very bad, many of the men 
would go and sit in the tavern close by, and get some 
one to watch for them ; but they often lost a fare in 
that way, and could not, as Jerry said, be there 
without spending money. He never went to the 
“ Rising Sun ; ” there was a coffee-shop near, where 
he now and then went — or he bought of an old man, 
who came to our rank with tins of hot coffee and 
pies. It was his opinion that spirits and beer made a 
man colder afterwards, and that dry clothes, good 
food, cheerfulness, and a comfortable wife at home, 
were the best things to keep a cabman warm. Polly 
always supplied him with something to eat when he 
could not get home, and sometimes he would see 
little Dolly peeping from the corner of the street, to 
make sure if “father” was on the stand. If she saw 
him, she would run off at full speed and soon come 
back with something in a tin or basket — some hot 
soup or pudding that Polly had ready. It was 
wonderful how such a little thing could get safely 
across the street, often thronged with horses and 
carriages ; but she was a brave little maid, and felt it 
quite an honour to bring “father’s first course,” as he 


202 Black Beauty. 

used to call it. She was a general favourite on the 
stand, and there was not a man who would not have 
seen her safely across the street, if Jerry had not been 
able to do it. 

One cold windy day, Dolly had brought Jerry a 
basin of something hot, and was standing by him 
whilst he ate it. He had scarcely begun, when a 
gentleman, walking towards us very fast, held up his 
umbrella. Jerry touched his hat in return, gave the 
basin to Dolly, and was taking off my cloth, when 
the gentleman, hastening up, cried out, “ No, no, finish 
your soup, my friend ; I have not much time to 
spare, but I can wait till you have done, and set your 
little girl safe on the pavement.” So saying, he 
seated himself in the cab. Jerry thanked him kindly, 
and came back to Dolly. 

“ There, Dolly, that’s a gentleman ; that’s a real 
gentleman, Dolly ; he has got time and thought for 
the comfort of a poor cabman and a little girl.” 

Jerry finished his soup, set the child across, and 
then took his orders to drive to ‘Xlapham Rise.” 
Several times after that, the same gentleman took our 
cab. I think he was very fond of dogs and horses, 
for whenever we took him to his own door, two or 
three dogs would come bounding out to meet him. 
Sometimes he came round and patted me, saying in 
his quiet, pleasant way, “ This horse has got a good 
master, and he deserves it.” It was a very rare thing 
for any one to notice the horse that had been working 
for him. I have known ladies do it now and then, 


Dolly and a Real Gentleman. 203 


and this gentleman, and one or two others have given 
me a pat and a kind word ; but ninety-nine out of a 
hundred would as soon think of patting the steam 
engine that drew the train. 

This gentleman was not young, and there was a 
forward stoop in his shoulders as if he was always 
going at something. His lips were thin, and close 
shut, though they had a very pleasant smile ; his eye 
was keen, and there was something in his jaw and the 
motion of his head that made one think he was very 
determined in anything he set about. His voice was 
pleasant and kind ; any horse would tri.st that voice, 
though it was just as decided as everything else 
about him. 

One day, he and another gentleman took our cab ; 

they stopped at a shop in R Street, and whilst 

his friend went in, he stood at the door. A little 
ahead of us on the other side of the street, a cart with 
two very fine horses was standing before some -.ne 
vaults ; the carter was not with them, and I cannot 
tell how long they had been standing, but they 
seemed to think they had waited long enough, and 
began to move off. Before they had gone many paces, 
the carter came running out and caught them. He 
seemed furious at their having moved, and with 
whip and rein punished them brutally, even beating 
them about the head. Our gentleman saw it all, 
and stepping quickly across the street, said in a 
decided voice — 

“If you don’t stop that directly, I’ll have you 


204 Black Beauty^ 

summonec! for leaving your horses, and for brutal 
conduct.” 

The man, who had clearly been drinking, poured 
forth some abusive language, but he left off knocking 
the horses about, and taking the reins, got into his 
cart ; meantime our friend had quietly taken a note- 
book from his pocket, and looking at the name and 
address painted on the cart, he wrote something 
down. 

“What do you want with that?** growled the 
carter, as he cracked his whip and was moving on. 
A nod, and a grim smile, was the only answer he 
got. 

On returning to the cab, our friend was joined b 
his companion, who said laughingly, “ I should have 
thought, Wright, you had enough business of your 
own to look after, without troubling yourself about 
other people’s horses and servants.” 

Our friend stood still for a moment, and throwing 
his head a little back, “ Do you know why this world 
is as bad as it is ? ” 

“ No,” said the other. 

“Then I’ll tell you. It fs because people think 
only about their own business, and won’t trouble 
themselves to stand up for the oppressed, nor bring 
the wrong-doer to light. I never see a wicked thing 
like this without doing what I can, and many a 
master has thanked me for letting him know how his 
horses have been used.” 

“ 1 wish there were more gentlemen like you, sir,” 


Dolly and a Real Gentleman. 205 

said Jerry, “for they are wanted badly enough in this 
city.” 

After this we continued our journey, and as they 
got out of the cab, our friend was saying, “ My 
doctrine is this, that if we see cruelty or wrong that 
we have the power to stop, and do nothing, we make 
ourselves sharers in the guilt” 


CHAPTER XXXIX, 


SEEDY SAM. 

I SHOULD say, that for a cab-horse I was very 
well off indeed ; my driver was my owner, and 
it was his interest to treat me well, and not 
overwork me, even had he not been so good a man as 
he was : but there were a great many horses which 
belonged to the large cab-owners, who let them out to 
their drivers for so much money a-day. As the 
horses did not belong to these men, the only thing 
they thought of was, how to get their mon^y out of 
them, first, to pay the master, and then to provide for 
their own living, and a dreadful time some of these 
horses had of it. Of course 1 understood but little, 
but it was often talked over on the stand, and the 
Governor, who was a kind-hearted man, and fond of 
horses, would sometimes speak up if one came in very 
much jaded or ill-used. 

One day, a shabby, miserable-looking driver, who 
went by the name of “ Seedy Sam,” brought in his 
horse looking dreadfully beat, and the Governor 
said — 


Seedy Sam, 207 

“You and your horSe look more fit for the police 
station than for this rank.” 

The man flung his tattered rug over the horse, 
turned full round upon the Governor, and said, in a 
voice that sounded almost desperate — 

“If the police have any business with the matter, it 
ought to be with the masters who charge us so much, 
or with the fares that are fixed so low. If a man has 
to pay eighteen shillings a day for the use of a cab 
and two horses, as many of us have to do in the 
season, and must make that up before we earn a 
penny for ourselves— I say, ’tis more than hard work ; 
nine shillings a day to get out of each horse, before 
you begin to get your own living ; you know that’s 
true, and if the horses don’t work we must starve, and 
I and my children have known what that is before 
now. I’ve six of ’em, and only one earns anything ; 
I am on the stand fourteen or sixteen hours a day, 
and I haven’t had a Sunday these ten or twelve 
weeks ; you know, Skinner never gives a day if he 
can help it, and if I don’t work hard, tell me who 
does ! I want a warm coat and a macintosh, but with 
so many to feed, how can a man get it ? I had to 
pledge my clock a week ago to pay Skinner, and I 
shall never see it again.” 

Some of the other drivers stood round nodding 
their heads, and saying he was right The man went 
on — 

“You that have your own horses and cabs, or drive 
for good masters, have a chance of getting on, and a 


2o8 


Black Beauty, 


chance of doing right; I haven’t. We can’t charge 
more than sixpence a mile after the first, within the 
four-mile radius. This very morning I had to go a 
clear six miles and only took three shillings. I could 
not get a return fare, and had to come all the way 
back ; there’s twelve miles for the horse and three 
shillings for me. After that I had a three-mile fare, 
and there were bags and boxes enough to have 
brought in a good many twopences if they had been 
put outside ; but you know how people do ; all that 
could be piled up inside on the front seat, were put 
in, and three heavy boxes went on the top, that was 
sixpence, and the fare one and sixpence ; then I got 
a return for a shilling ; now that makes eighteen 
miles for the horse and six shillings for me ; there’s 
three shillings still for that horse to earn, and nine 
shillings for the afternoon horse before I touch a 
penny. Of course it is not always so bad as that, but 
you know it often is, and I say ’tis a mockery to tell 
a man that he must not overwork his horse, for when 
a beast is downright tired, there’s nothing but the 
whip that will keep his legs agoing — you can’t help 
yourself — you must put your wife and children before 
the horse, the masters must look to that, we can’t. I 
don’t ill-use my horse for the sake of it ; none of you 
can say I do. There’s wrong lays somewhere — never 
a day’s rest — never a quiet hour with the wife and 
children. I often feel like an old man, though I’m 
only forty-five. You know how quick some of the 
gentry are to suspect us of cheating and over- 


209 


Seedy Sam. 

charging ; why, they sfand with their purses in their 
hands, counting it over to a penny, and looking at us 
as if we were pickpockets. I wish some of ^em had 
got to sit on my box sixteen hours a day, and get a 
living out of it, and eighteen shillings beside, and that 
in all weathers ; they would not be so uncommon 
particular never to give us a sixpence over, or to cram 
all the luggage inside. Of course, some of ’em tip us 
pretty handsome now and then, or else we could not 
live, but you can’t depend upon that.” 

The men who stood round, much approved this 
speech, and one of them said, “ It is desperate hard, 
and if a man sometimes does what is wrong, it is no 
wonder, and if he gets a dram too much, who’s to 
blow him up ?” 

Jerry had taken no part in this conversation, but 
I never .saw his face look so sad before. The 
Governor had stood with both his hands in his 
pockets ; now he took his handkerchief out of his hat, 
and wiped his forehead. 

“You’ve beaten me, Sam,” he said, “for it’s all true, 
and 1 won’t cast it up to you any more about the 
police; it was the look in that horse’s eye that 
came over me. It is hard lines for man, and it is 
hard lines for beast, and who’s to mend it I don’t 
know ; but any way you might tell the poor beast 
that you were sorry to take it out of him in that 
vay. Sometimes a kind word is all we can give 
’em, poor brutes, and ’tis wonderful what they do 
unaerstand.” 


210 


Black Beauty. 


A few mornings after this talk, a new man came on 
the stand with Sam’s cab. 

“ Halloo ! ” said one, “what’s up with Seedy Sam ?” 

“ He’s ill in bed,” said the man ; “ he was taken last 
night in the yard, and could scarcely crawl home. 
His wife sent a boy this morning to say his father 
was in a high fever and could not get out ; so I’m 
here instead.” 

The next morning the same man came again. 

“ How is Sam ? ” enquired the Governor. 

“ He’s gone,” said the man. 

** What, gone? You don’t mean to say he’s 
dead?” 

“Just snuffed out,” said the other; “he died at four 
o’clock this morning ; all yesterday he was raving — 
raving about Skinner, and having no Sundays. ‘ I 
never had a Sunday’s rest,’ these were his last words.” 

No one spoke for awhile, and then the Governor 
said, “ I tell you what, mates, this is a warning for 


CHAPTER XL. 


POOR GINGER, 

O NE day, whilst our cab and many others were 
waiting outside one of the Parks, where a band 
was playing, a shabby old cab drove up beside 
ours. The horse was an old worn-out chestnut, with 
an ill-kept coat, and bones that showed plainly 
through it The knees knuckled over, and the 
forelegs were very unsteady. I had been eating some 
hay, and the wind rolled a little lock of it that way, 
and the poor creature put out her long thin neck and 
picked it up, and then turned round and looked about 
for more. There was a hopeless look in the dull eye 
that I could not help noticing, and then, as I was 
thinking where I had seen that horse before, she 
looked full at me and said, “Black Beauty, is that 
you?” 

It was Ginger ! but how changed ! The beautifully 
arched and glossy neck was now straight, and lank, 
and fallen in, the clean straight legs and delicate 
fetlocks were swelled ; the joints were grown out of 
shape with hard work ; the face, that was once so full 


212 


Black Beauty. 


of spirit and life, was now full of suffering, and I 
could tell by the heaving of her sides, and her 
frequent cough, how bad her breath was. 

Our drivers were standing together a little way off, 
so I sidled up to her a step or two, that we might 
have a little quiet talk. It was a sad tale that she 
had to tell. 

After a twelvemonth's run off at Earlshall, she was 
considered to be fit for work again, and was sold to a 
gentleman. For a little while she got on very well, 
but after a longer gallop than usual, the old strain 
returned, and after being rested and doctored, she 
was again sold. In this way she changed hands 
several times, but always getting lower down. 

“ And so at last,” said she, “ I was bought by a man 
who keeps a number of cabs and horses, and lets 
them out. You look well off, and I am glad of it, but 
I could not tell you what my life has been. When 
they found out my weakness, they said I was not 
worth what they gave for me, and that I must go into 
one of the low cabs, and just be used up ; that is what 
they are doing, whipping and working with never one 
thought of what I suffer ; they paid for me, and must 
get it out of me, they say. The man who hires me 
now, pays a deal of money to the owner every day, 
and so he has to get it out of me too ; and so it’s all 
the week round and round, with never a Sunday rest” 

I said, “You used to stand up for yourself if you 
were ill-used.” 

“ Ah I ” she said, “ I did once, but it’s no use ; men 


Poor Ginger. 


213 


are strongest, and if they are cruel and have no 
feeling, there is nothing that we can do. but just bear 
it, bear it on and on to the end. I wish the end was 
come, I wish I was dead. I have seen dead horses, 
and I am sure they i not suffer pain ; I wish I may 
drop down dead at my work, and not be sent off to 
the knacker’s.” 

I was very much troubled, and I put my nose up to 
hers, but I could say nothing to comfort her. I think 
she was pleased to see me, for she said, “You are the 
only friend I ever had.” 

Just then her driver came up, and with a tug at her 
mouth, backed her out of the line and drove off, 
leaving me very sad indeed. 

A short time after this, a cart with a dead horse in 
it passed our cab-stand. The head hung out of the 
cart tail, the lifeless tongue was slowly dropping with 
blood j and the sunken eyes ! but I can’t speak of 
them, the sight was too dreadful. It was a chestnut 
horse with a long thin neck. I saw a white streak 
down the forehead. I believe it was Ginger ; I hoped 
it was, for then her troubles would be over. Oh ! if 
men were more merciful, they would shoot us before 
we came to such misery. 


CHAPTER XU. 

THE BUTCHER, 

I SAW a great deal of trouble amongst the horses 
in London, and much of it that might have been 
prevented by a little common sense. We horses 
do not mind hard work if we are treated reasonably ; 
and I am sure there are many driven by quite poor 
men who have a happier life than I had, when I used 

to go in the Countess of W *s carriage, with my 

silver-mounted harness and high feeding. 

It often went to my heart to see how the little 
ponies were used, straining along with heavy loads, or 
staggering under heavy blows from some low cruel 
boy. Once I saw a little grey pony with a thick 
mane and a pretty head, and so much like Merrylegs, 
that if I had not been in harness, I should have 
neighed to him. He was doing his best to pull a 
heavy cart, while a strong rough boy was cutting him 
under the belly with his whip, and chucking cruelly 
at his little month. Could it be Merrylegs? It was 
just like him ; but then Mr. Blomefield was never to 
sell him, and I think he would not do it; but this 


The Butcher. 


215 

might have been quite as good a little fellow, and had 
as happy a place when he was young. 

I often noticed the great speed at which butchers’ 
horses were made to go, though I did not know why 
it was so, till one day when we had to wait some time 
in “ St John’s Wood.” There was a butcher’s shop 
next door, and as we were standing, a butcher’s cart 
came dashing up at a great pace. The horse was hot, 
and much exhausted ; he hung his head down, while 
his heaving sides and trembling legs showed how 
hard he had been driven. The lad jumped out of the 
cart and was getting the basket, when the master 
came out of the shop much displeased. After looking 
at the horse, he turned angrily to the lad : — 

“ How many times shall I tell you not to drive in 
this way? You ruined the last horse and broke his 
wind, and you are going to ruin this in the same way. 
If you were not my own son, I would dismiss you on 
the spot ; it is a disgrace to have a horse brought to 
the shop in a condition like that ; you are liable to be 
taken up by the police for such driving, and if you 
are, you need not look to me for bail, for I have 
spoken to you till I am tired ; you must look out for 
yourself” 

During this speech, the boy had stood by, sullen 
and dogged, but when his father ceased, he broke out 
angrily. It wasn’t his fault, and he wouldn’t take the 
blame, he was only going by orders all the time. 

“You always say, ‘Now be quick; now look 
sharp ! ’ and when I go to the houses, one wants a leg 


2i6 


BlacTc Beauty. 

of mutton for an early dinner, and I must be back 
with it in a quarter of an hour. Another cook had 
forgotten to order the beef; I must go and fetch it 
and be back in no time, or the mistress will scold ; 
and the housekeeper says they have company coming 
unexpectedly and must have some chops sent up 
directly ; and the lady at No. 4, in the Crescent, 
never orders her dinner till the meat comes in for 
lunch, and it’s nothing but hurry, hurry, all the time. 
If the gentry would think of what they want, and 
order their meat the day before, there need not be 
this blow up ! ” 

“ I wish to goodness they would,” said the butcher ; 
“’twould save me a wonderful deal of harass, and I 
could suit my customers much better if I knew 
beforehand — but there — what’s the use of talking — 
who ever thinks of a butcher’s convenience, or a 
butcher’s horse? Now then, take him in, and look to 
him well : mind, he does not go out again to-day, and 
if anything else is wanted, you must carry it yourself 
in the basket.” With that he went in, and the horse 
was led away. 

But all boys are not cruel. I have seen some as 
fond of their pony or donkey as if it had been a 
favourite dog, and the little creatures have worked 
away as cheerfully and willingly for their young 
drivers as I work for Jerry. It may be hard work 
sometimes, but a friend’s hand and voice make it 
easy. 

There was a young coster-boy who came up our 


The Butcher. 


217 

street with greens and potatoes ; he had an old pony, 
not very handsome, but the cheerfullest and pluckiest 
little thing I ever saw, and to see how fond those two 
were of each other, was a treat. The pony followed 
his master like a dog, and when he got into his cart, 
would trot off without a whip or a word, and rattle 
down the street as merrily as if he had come out of 
the Queen’s stables. Jerry liked the boy, and called 
him “Prince Charlie,” for he said he would make a 
king of drivers some day. 

There was an old man, too, who used to come up 
our street with a little coal cart ; he wore a coal- 
heaver’s hat, and looked rough and black. He and 
his old horse used to plod together along the street, 
like two good partners who understood each other; 
the horse would stop of his own accord, at the doors 
where they took coal of him : he used to keep one ear 
bent towards his master. The old man’s cry could be 
heard up the street long before he came near. I 
never knew what he said, but the children called him 
“ Old Ba-a-ar Hoo,” for it sounded like that. Polly 
took her coal of him, and was very friendly, and Jerry 
said it was a comfort to think how happy an old 
horse be in a poor place. 


CHAPTER XLIL 


THE ELECTION. 


A 


S we came into the yard one afternoon, Polly 

came out, “Jerry! IVe had Mr. B here 

asking about your vote, and he wants to hire 
your cab for the election ; he will call for an 
answer.” 

“Well, Polly, you may say that my cab will be 
otherwise engaged ; I should not like to have it 
pasted over with their great bills, and as to make 
Jack and Captain race about to the public-houses to 
bring up half-drunken voters, why, I think ’twould be 
an insult to the horses. No, I shan’t do it.” 

“ I suppose you’ll vote for the gentleman ? He 
said he was of your politics.” 

“ So he is in some things, but I shall not vote for 
him, Polly ; you know what his trade is ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“ Well, a man who get rich by that trade, may be 
all very well in some ways, but he is blind as to what 
working men want : I could not in my conscience 
send him up to make the laws. I dare say they’ll be 


The Election. 


219 

every man must do what he thinks to be 
the best for his country.” 

On the morning before the election, Jerry was 
putting me into the shafts, when Dolly came into the 
yard sobbing and crying, with her little blue frock 
and white pinafore spattered all over with mud. 

“ Why, Dolly, what is the matter ? ” 

“ Those naughty boys,” she sobbed, “ have thrown 
the dirt all over me, and called me a little ragga — 
ragga— ” 

“ They called her a little blue raggamuffin, father,” 
said Harry, who ran in looking very angry ; “ but I 
have given it to them, they won’t insult my sister 
again. I have given them a thrashing they will 
remember ; a set of cowardly, rascally, orange black- 
guards ! ” 

Jerry kissed the child and said, “Run in to mother, 
my pet, and tell her I think you had better stay at 
home to-day and help her.” 

Then turning gravely to Harry — 

“ My boy, I hope you will always defend your 
sister, and give anybody who insults her a good 
thrashing — that is as it should be ; but mind, I won’t 
have any election blackguarding on my premises. 
There are as many blue blackguards as there are 
orange, and as many white as there are purple, or any 
other colour, and I won’t have any of my family 
mixed up with it. Even women and children are 
ready to quarrel for the sake of a colour, and not one 
in ten of them knows what it is about” 


220 


Black Beauty, 


“ Why, father, I thought blue was for Liberty.” 

“My boy, Liberty does not come from colours, 
they only show party, and all the liberty you can get 
out of them is, liberty to get drunk at other people’s 
expense, liberty to ride to the poll in a dirty old cab, 
liberty to abuse any one that does not wear your 
colour, and to shout yourself hoarse at what you only 
half understand — that’s your liberty!” 

“ Oh, father, you are laughing.” 

“ No, Harry, I am serious, and I am ashamed to 
see how men go on that ought to know better. An 
election is a very serious thing ; at least it ought to 
be, and every man ought to vote according to his 
conscience, and let his neighbour do the same,” 


CHAPTER XLIIL 


A FRIEND IN NEED. 

A t last came the election day ; there was no lack 
of work for Jerry and me. First came a stout 
puffy gentleman with a carpet bag ; he wanted 
to go to the Bishopsgate Station : then we were 
called by a party who wished to be taken to the 
Regent’s Park ; and next we were wanted in a side 
street where a timid anxious old lady was waiting to 
be taken to the bank : there we had to stop to take 
her back again, and just as we had set her down, a 
red-faced gentleman with a handful of papers, came 
running up out of breath, and before Jerry could get 
down, he had opened the door, popped himself in, 
and called out “ Bow Street Police Station, quick ! ’* 
so off we went with him, and when after another turn 
or two we came back, there was no other cab on the 
stand. Jerry put on my nose-bag, for as he said, 
“We must eat when we can on such days as these; 
so munch away, Jack, and make the best of your 
time, old boy.” 

1 found I had a good feed of crushed oats wetted 


222 Black Beauty. 

up with a little bran ; this would be a treat any day, 
but was specially refreshing then. Jerry was so 
thoughtful and kind — what horse would not do his 
best for such a master? Then he took out one of 
Polly’s meat pies, and standing near me, he began to 
eat it. The streets were very full, and the cabs with 
the Candidates’ colours on them, were dashing about 
through the crowd as if life and limb were of no con- 
sequence ; we saw two people knocked down that 
day, and one was a woman. The horses were having 
a bad time of it, poor things ! but the voters inside 
thought nothing of that, many of them were half 
drunk, hurrahing out of the cab windows if their own 
party came by. It was the first election I had seen, 
and I don’t want to be in another, though I have 
heard things are better now. 

Jerry and I had not eaten many mouthfuls, before 
a poor young woman, carrying a heavy child, came 
along the street She was looking this way, and that 
way, and seemed quite bewildered Presently she 
made her way up to Jerry, and asked if he could tell 
her the way to St Thomas’s Hospital, and how far it 
was to get there. She had come from the country 
that morning, she said, in a market cart ; she did not 
know about the election, and was quite a stranger in 
London. She had got an order for the Hospital for 
her little boy. The child was crying with a feeble 
pining cry. 

“ Poor little fellow ! ” she said, “ he suffers a deal of 
pain ; he is four years old, and can’t walk any more 


A Friend in Need. 


223 


than a baby ; but the doctor said if I could get him 
into the Hospital, he might get well ; pray, sir, how 
far is it ? and which way is it ? ” 

“Why, missis,” said Jerry, “you can’t get there 
walking through crowds like this ! why, it is three 
miles away, and that child is heavy.” 

“ Yes, bless him, he is, but I am strong, thank God, 
and if I knew the way, I think I should get on some- 
how : please tell me the way.” 

“You can’t do it,” said Jerry, “you might be 
knocked down and the child be run over. Now, look 
here, just get into this cab, and I’ll drive you safe to 
the Hospital : don’t you see the rain is coming on ? ” 

“ No, sir, no, I can’t do that, thank you, I have only 
just money enough to get back with : please tell me 
the way.” 

“ Look you here, missis,” said Jerry, “ I’ve got a 
wife and dear children at home, and I know a father’s 
feelings : now get you into that cab, and I’ll take you 
there for nothing ; I’d be ashamed of myself to let a 
woman and a sick child run a risk like that.” 

“ Heaven bless you ! ” said the woman, and burst 
into tears. 

“ There, there, cheer up, my dear. Til soon take you 
there ; come, let me put you inside.” 

As Jerry went to open the door, two men, with 
colours in their hats and button-holes, ran up, calling 
out, “ Cab 1 ” 

“ Engaged,” cried Jerry ; but one of the men, push- 
ing past the woman, sprang into the cab, followed by 


224 


Black Beauty, 


the other. Jerry looked as stern as a policeman : 
"This cab is already engaged, gentlemen, by that 
lady,** 

" Lady ! ” said one of them ; “ oh ! she can wait : 
our business is very important, beside we were in first, 
it is our right, and we shall stay in.” 

A droll smile came over Jerry’s face as he shut the 
door upon them. " All right, gentlemen, pray stay in 
as long as it suits you : I can wait whilst you rest 
yourselves ; ” and turning his back upon them, he 
walked up to the young woman, who was standing 
near me. " They’ll soon be gone,” he said, laughing, 
“ don’t trouble yourself, my dear.” 

And they soon were gone, for when they under- 
stood Jerry’s dodge, they got out, calling him all sorts 
of bad names, and blustering about his number, and 
getting a summons. After this little stoppage we 
were soon on our way to the Hospital, going as much 
as possible through bye streets. Jerry rung the great 
bell, and helped the young woman out. 

“ Thank you a thousand times,” she said ; " I could 
never have got here alone.” 

“You’re kindly welcome, and I hope the dear child 
will soon be better.” 

He watched her go in at the door, and gently he 
said to himself, “ Inasmuch as ye have done it to one 
of the least of these.” Then he patted my neck, 
which was always his way when anything pleased 

him. 

The rain was now coming down fast and just as 


A Friend in Need. 


225 


we were leaving the Hospital, the door opened again, 
and the porter called out, “Cab!” We stopped, and 
a lady came down the steps. Jerry seemed to know 
her at once ; she put back her veil and said, “ Barker I 
Jeremiah Barker! is it you? I am very glad to find 
you here ; you are just the friend I want, for it is 
very difficult to get a cab in this part of London to- 
day.” 

“ I shall be proud to serve you, ma’am, I am right 
glad I happened to be here ; where may I take you 
to. ma’am ? ” 

“To the Paddington Station, and then if we are in 
good time, as I think we shall be, you shall tell me 
all about M ary and the children.” 

We got to the station in good time, and being 
under shelter, the lady stood a good while talking to 
Jerry. I found she had been Polly’s mistress, and 
after many enquiries about her, she said — 

“ How do you find the cab-work suit you in winter ? 
I know Mary was rather anxious about you last year.” 

“ Yes, ma’am, she was ; I had a bad cough that 
followed me up quite into the warm weather, and 
when I am kept out late, she does worry herself a 
good deal. You see, ma’am, it is all hours and all 
weathers, and that does try a man’s constitution ; but 
I am getting on pretty well, and I should feel quite 
lost if I had not horses to look after. I was brought 
up to it, and I am afraid I should not do so well at 
anything else.” 

“Well, Barker,” she said, “it would be a great pity 


226 


Black Beauty, 


tftat you should seriously risk your health in this 
work, not only for your own, but for Mary and the 
children’s sake : there are many places, where good 
drivers or good grooms are wanted ; and if ever you 
think you ought to give up this cab work, let me 
know.” Then sending some kind messages to Mary^ 
she put something into his hand, saying, “ There is 
five shillings each for the two children ; Mary will 
know how to spend it.” 

Jerry thanked her and seemed much pleased, and 
turning out of the station, we at last reached home, 
and I, at least, was tired 


CHAPTER XLIV: 


OLD CAPTAIN AND HIS SUCCESSOR, 

C APTAIN and I were great friends. He was a 
noble old fellow, and he was very good com- 
pany. I never thought that he would have to 
leave his home and go down the hill, but his turn 
came ; and this was how it happened. I was not 
there, but I heard all about it. 

He and Jerry had taken a party to the great rail- 
way station over London Bridge, and were coming 
back, somewhere between the Bridge and the Monu- 
ment, when Jerry saw a brewer’s empty dray coming 
along, drawn by two powerful horses. The drayman 
was lashing his horses with his heavy whip ; the dray 
was light, and they started off at a furious rate ; the 
man had no control over them, and the street was full 
of traffic ; one young girl was knocked down and run 
over, and the next moment they dashed up against 
our cab ; both the wheels were torn off, and the cab 
was thrown over. Captain was dragged down, the 
shafts splintered, and one of them ran into his side. 
Jerry too was thrown, but was only bruised ; nobody 


228 


Black Beauty, 


could tell how he escaped, he always said *twas a 
miracle. When poor Captain was got up, he was 
found to be very much cut and knocked about. Jerry 
led him home gently, and a sad sight it was to see 
the blood soaking into his white coat, and dropping 
from his side and shoulder. The drayman was proved 
to be very drunk, and was fined, and the brewer had 
to pay damages to our master ; but there was no one 
to pay damages to poor Captain. 

The farrier and Jerry did the best they could to 
ease his pain, and make him comfortable. The fly 
had to be mended, and for several days I did not go 
out, and Jerry earned nothing. The first time we 
went to the stand after the accident, the Governor 
came up to hear how Captain was. 

“He’ll never get over it,” said Jerry, “at least not 
for my work, so the farrier said this morning. He 
says he may do for carting, and that sort of work. 
It has put me out very much. Carting indeed ! I’ve 
seen what horses come to at that work round London. 
I only wish all the drunkards could be put in a lunatic 
asylum, instead of being allowed to run foul of sober 
people. If they would break their own bones, and 
smash their own carts, and lame their own horses, that 
would be their own affair, and we might let them 
alone, but it seems to me that the innocent always 
suffer ; and then they talk about compensation ! You 
can’t make compensation — there’s all the trouble, and 
vexation, and loss of time, besides losing a good horse 
that’s like an old friend — it’s nonsense talking of 


Old Ca/ptain and His Successor. 229 


compensation ! If there’s one devil that I should like 
to see in the bottomless pit more than another, it’s the 
drink devil.” 

“ I say, Jerry,” said the Governor, **you are treading 
pretty hard on my toes, you know ; I’m not so good 
as you are, more shame for me, I wish I was.” 

“Well,” said Jerry, “why don’t you cut with it, 
Governor ? you are too good a man to be the slave of 
such a thing.” 

“I’m a great fool, Jerry, but I tried once for two 
days, and I thought I should have died : how did you 
do?” 

“ I had hard work at it for several weeks ; you see, 
I never did get drunk, but I found that I was not my 
own master, and that when the craving came on, it 
was hard work to say *no.’ I saw that one of us 
must knock under — the drink devil, or Jerry Barker, 
and I said that it should not be Jerry Barker, God 
helping me : but it was a struggle, and I wanted all 
the help I could get, for till I tried to break the habit, 
I did not know how strong it was ; but then Polly 
took such pains that I should have good food, and 
when the craving came on, I used to get a cup of 
coffee, or some peppermint, or read a bit in my book, 
and that was a lulp to me: sometimes I had to say 
over and over to myself, ‘ Give up the drink or lose 
your soul ? Give up the drink or break Polly’s heart ? 
But thanks be to God, and my dear wife, my chains 
were broken, and now for ten years 1 have not tasted 
a drop, and never wish for it” 


230 Black Beauty, 

** IVe a great mind to try at it,” said Grant, " for *tis 
a poor thing not to be one’s own master.” 

“ Do, Governor, do, you’ll never repent it, and what 
a help it would be to some of the poor fellows in our 
rank if they saw you do without it. I know there’s 
two or three would like to keep out of that tavern if 
they could.” 

At first Captain seemed to do well, but he was a 
very old horse, and it was only his wonderful con- 
stitution, and Jerry’s care, that had kept him up at 
the cab-work so long ; now he broke down very much. 
The farrier said he might mend up enough to sell for 
a few pounds, but Jerry said, no ! a few pounds got 
by selling a good old servant into hard work and 
misery, would canker all the rest of his money, and 
he thought the kindest thing he could do for the fine 
old fellow would be to put a sure bullet through his 
heart, and then he would never suffer more ; for he 
did not know where to find a kind master for the rest 
of his days. 

The day after this was decided, Harry took me to 
the forge for some new shoes ; when I returned. 
Captain was gone. I and the family all felt it very 
much. 

Jerry had now to look out for another horse, and 
he soon heard of one through an acquaintance who 
was under-groom in a nobleman’s stables. He was a 
valuable young horse, but he had run away, smashed 
into another carriage, flung his lordship out, and so 
cut and blemished himself that he was no longer fit 


Old Captain and His Successor, 231 

for a gentleman’s stables, and the coachman had 
orders to look round, and sell him as well as he 
could. 

“I can do with high spirits,” said Jerry, “if a horse 
is not vicious or hard-mouthed.” 

“ There is not a bit of vice in him,” said the man, 
“his mouth is very tender, and I think myself, that 
was the cause of the accident ; you see he had just 
been clipped, and the weather was bad, and he had 
not had exercise enough, and when he did go out, he 
was as full of spring as a balloon. Our governor (the 
coachman, I mean) had him harnessed in as tight and 
strong as he could, with the martingale, and the bear- 
ing rein, a very sharp curb, and the reins put in at the 
bottom bar ; it is my belief that it made the horse 
mad, being tender in the mouth and so full of spirit.” 

“ Likely enough ; I’ll come and see him,” said 
Jerry. 

The next day. Hotspur — that was his name — came 
home ; he was a fine brown horse, without a white 
hair in him, as tall as Captain, with a very handsome 
head, and only five years old. I gave him a friendly 
greeting by way of good fellowship, but did not ask 
him any questions. The first night he was very rest- 
less ; instead of lying down, he kept jerking his halter 
rope up and down through the ring, and knocking the 
block about against the manger so that I could not 
sleep. However, the next day, after five or six hours 
in the cab, he came in quiet and sensible. Jerry 
patted and talked to him a good deal, and very soon 


232 Black Beauty. 

they understood each other, and Jerry said that with 
an easy bit, and plenty of work, he would be as gentle 
as a lamb ; and that it was an ill wind that blew 
nobody good, for if his lordship had lost a hundred- 
guinea favourite, the cabman had gained a good horse 
with all his strength in him. 

Hotspur thought it a great come down to be a cab- 
horse, and was disgusted at standing in the rank, but 
he confessed to me at the end of the week, that an 
easy mouth, and a free head, made up for a great 
deal, and after all, the work was not so degrading as 
having one’s head and tail fastened to each other at 
the saddle. In fact, he settled in well, and Jerry 
liked him very much. 


CHAPTER XLV. 


JERRY*S NEW YEAR. 

C HRISTMAS and the New Year are very merry 
times for some people ; but for cabmen and 
cabmen’s horses, it is no holiday, though it 
may be a harvest. There are so many parties, balls, 
and places of amusernent open, that the work is hard 
and often late. Sometimes driver and horse have to 
wait for hours in the rain or frost, shivering with cold, 
whilst the merry people within are dancing away to 
the music. I wonder if the beautiful ladies ever think 
of the weary cabman waiting on his box, and his 
patient beast standing, till his legs get stiff with 
cold. 

I had now most of the evening work, as I was well 
accustomed to standing, and Jerry was also more 
afraid of Hotspur taking cold. We had a great deal 
of late work in the Christmas week, and Jerry’s cough 
was bad ; but however late we were, Polly sat up for 
him, and came out with the lantern to meet him, 
looking anxious and troubled. 

On the evening of the New Year, we had to take 


234 Black Beauty, 

two gentlemen to a house in one of the West End 
Squares. We set them down at nine o’clock and 
were told to come again at eleven, “ But,” said one of 
them, “as it is a card party, you may have to wait a 
few minutes, but don’t be late.” 

As the clock struck eleven we were at the door, for 
Jerry was always punctual. The clock chimed the 
quarters — one, two, three, and then struck twelve, but 
the door did not open. 

The wind had been very changeable, with squalls 
of rain during the day, but now it came on sharp 
driving sleet, which seemed to come all the way 
round ; it was very cold, and there was no shelter. 
Jerry got off his box and came and pulled one of my 
cloths a little more over my neck ; then he took a 
turn or two up and down, stamping his feet ; then he 
began to beat his arms, but that set him off coughing; 
so he opened the cab door and sat at the bottom with 
his feet on the pavement, and was a little sheltered. 
Still the clock chimed the quarters, and no one came. 
At half-past twelve, he rang the bell and asked the 
servant if he would be wanted that night 

“ Oh ! yes, you’ll be wanted safe enough,” said the 
man, “ you must not go, it will soon be over,” and 
again Jerry sat down, but his voice was so hoarse I 
could hardly hear him. 

At a quarter past one the door opened, and the two 
gentlemen came out ; they got into the cab without a 
word, and told Jerry where to drive, that was nearly 
two miles. My legs were numb with cold, and I 


235 


Jerry's New Year, 

thought I should have stumbled. When the men got 
out, they never said they were sorry to have kept us 
waiting so long, but were angry at the charge : how- 
ever, as Jerry never charged more than was his due, 
so he never took less, and they had to pay for the two 
hours and a quarter waiting ; but it was hard-earned 
money to Jerry. 

At last we got home ; he could hardly speak, and 
his cough was dreadful. Polly asked no questions, 
but opened the door and held the lantern for him. 

“ Can’t I do something ? ” she said. 

“Yes, get Jack something warm, and then boil me 
some gruel.” 

This was said in a hoarse whisper ; he could hardly 
get his breath, but he gave me a rub down as usual, 
and even went up into the hayloft for an extra bundle 
of straw for my bed. Polly brought me a warm mash 
that made me comfortable, and then they locked the 
door. 

It was late the next morning before any one came, 
and then it was only Harry. He cleaned us and fed 
us, and swept out the stalls, then he put the straw 
back agair^ as if it was Sunday. He was very still, 
and neither whistled nor sang. At noon he came 
again and gave us our food and water: this time 
Dolly came with him ; she was crying, and I could 
gather from what they said, that Jerry was danger- 
ously ill, and the doctor said it was a bad case So 
two days passed, and there was great trouble indoors. 
We only saw Harry, and sometimes Dolly. I think 


236 


Black Beauty, 


she came for company, for Polly was always with 
Jerry, and he l:o be kept very quiet. 

On the third day, whilst Harry was in the stable, a 
tap came at the door, and Governor Grant came in. 

“ I wouldn’t go to the house, my boy,” he said, “ but 
I want to know how your father is.” 

“ He is very bad,” said Harry, “ he can’t be much 
worse ; they call it ‘ bronchitis ; ’ the doctor thinks it 
will turn one way or another to-night.” 

“That’s bad, very bad,” said Grant, shaking his 
head ; “ I know two men who died of that last week ; 
it takes ’em off in no time ; but whilst there’s life 
there’s hope, so you must keep up your spirits.” 

“Yes,” said Harry quickly, “and the doctor said 
that father had a better chance than most men, 
because he didn’t drink. He said yesterday the fever 
was so high, that if father had been a drinking man, 
it would have burnt him up like a piece of paper; 
but I believe he thinks he will get over it ; don’t you 
think he will, Mr. Grant } ” 

The Governor looked puzzled. 

“If there’s any rule that good men should get over 
these things, I am sure he will, my boy ; he’s the best 
man I know. I’ll look in early to-morrow,” 

Early next morning he was there. 

“ Well?” said he. 

“ Father is better,” said Harry. “ Mother hopes he 
will get over it.” 

“ Thank God ! ” said the Governor, “ and now you 
must keep him warm, and keep his mind easy, and 


237 


Jerrxfs New Year. 

that brings me to the horses ; you see, Jack will be 
all the better for the rest of a week I lo in a warm 
stable, and you can easily take him a turn up and 
down the street to stretch his legs ; but this young 
one, if he does not get work, he will soon be all up 
on end, as you may say, and will be rather too much 
for you ; and when he does go out, there’ll be an 
accident.” 

“ It is like that now,” said Harry, " I have kept him 
short of corn, but he’s so full bf spirit I don’t know 
what to do with him.” 

“Just so,” said Grant "Now look here, will you 
tell your mother that if she is agreeable, I will come 
for him every day till something is arranged, and take 
him for a good spell of work, and whatever he earns, 
I’ll bring your mother half of it, and that will help 
with the horses’ feed. Your father is in a good club, 
I know, but that won’t keep the horses, and they’ll be 
eating their heads off all this time : I’ll come at noon 
and hear what she says,” and without waiting for 
Harry’s thanks, he was gone. 

At noon I think he went and saw Polly, for he and 
Harry came to the stable together, harnessed Hotspur 
and took him out. 

For a week or more he came for Hotspur, and 
when Harry thanked him or said anything about his 
kindness, he laughed it off, saying, it was all good 
luck for him, for his horses were wanting a little rest 
which they would not otherwise have had. 

Jerry grew better, steadily, but the doctor said that 


23S Black Beauty. 

he must never go back to the cab-work again if he 
wished to be an old man. The children had many 
consultations together about what father and mother 
would do, and how they could help to earn money. 

One afternoon, Hotspur was brought in very wet 
and dirty. 

“The streets are nothing but slush,” said the 
Governor ; “ it will give you a good warming, my boy, 
to get him clean and dry.” 

“ All right, Governor,” said Harry, “ I shall not 
leave him till he is ; you know I have been trained by 
my father.” 

“I wish all the boys had been trained like you,” 
said the Governor. 

While Harry was sponging off the mud from 
Hotspur’s body and legs, Dolly came in, looking very 
full of something. 

“ Who lives at Fairstowe, Harry ? Mother has got 
a letter from Fairstowe ; she seemed so glad, and ran 
upstairs to father with it.” 

“Don’t you know? Why, it is the name of Mrs. 
Fowler’s place — mother’s old mistress, you know — the 
lady that father met last summer, who sent you and 
me five shillings each.” 

“ Oh ! Mrs. Fowler ; of course I know all about her, 
I wonder what she is writing to mother about.” 

“ Mother wrote to her last week,” said Harry ; 
“you know she told father if ever he gave up the 
cab- work, she would like to know. I wonder what 
she says ; run in and see, Dolly.” 


Jerry's New Year. 239 

Harry scrubbed away at Hotspur with a huishi 
huish ! like any old ostler. 

In a few minutes Dolly came dancing into the stable. 

“ Oh ! Harry, there never was anything so beauti- 
ful ; Mrs. Fowler says, we are all to go and live near 
her. There is a cottage now empty that will just suit 
us, with a garden, and a hen house, and apple trees, 
and everything ! and her coachman is going away in 
the spring, and then she will want father in his place ; 
and there are good families round, where you can get 
a place in the garden, or the stable, or as a page boy ; 
and there’s a good school for me ; and mother is 
laughing and crying by turns, and father does look so 
happy ! ” 

“ That’s uncommon jolly,” said Harry, “ and just 
the right thing, I should say ; it will suit father and 
mother both ; but I don’t intend to be a page boy 
with tight clothes and rows of buttons. I’ll be a 
groom or a gardener.” 

It was quickly settled that as soon as Jerry was 
well enough, they should remove to the country, and 
that the cab and horses should be sold as soon as 
possible. 

This was heavy news for me, for I was not young 
now, and could not look for any improvement in my 
condition. Since 1 left Birtwick I had never been so 
happy as with my dear master, Jerry ; but three years 
of cab-work, even under the best conditions, will tell 
on one’s strength, and I felt that I was not the horsr 
that I had been. 


240 


Black Beauty. 


Grant said at once that he would take Hotspur; 
and there were men on the stand who would have 
bought me; but Jerry said I should not go to cab- 
work again with just anybody, and the Governor 
promised to find a place for me where I should be 
comfortable. 

The day came for going away. Jerry had not been 
allowed to go out yet, and I never saw him after that 
New Year’s Eve. Polly and the children came to bid 
me good-bye. “Poor old Jack I dear old Jack! I 
wish we could take you with us,” she said, and then, 
laying her hand on my mane, she put her face close 
to my neck and kissed me. Dolly was crying and 
kissed me too. Harry stroked me a great deal, but 
said nothing, only he seemed very sad, and so I was 
led away to my new place. 


PART IV, 


CHAPTER XLVI. 

JAKES AND THE LADY, 

I WAS sold to a corn dealer and baker, whom 
Jerry knew, and with him he thought I should 
have good food and fair work. In the first 
he was quite right, and if my master had always been 
on the premises, I do not think I should have been 
over-loaded, but there was a foreman who was always 
hurrying and driving everyone, and frequently when 
I had quite a full load, he would order something 
else to be taken on. My carter, whose name was 
Jakes, often said it was more than I ought to take, 
but the other always overruled him : “ ’T was no use 
going twice when once would do, and he chose to get 
business forward.” 

Jakes, like the other carters, always had the bearing 
rein up, which prevented me from drawing easily, and 
by the time I had been there three or four months, I 
found the work telling very much on my strength. 

One day, I was loaded more than usual, and part of 


Black Beauty. 


242 

the road was a steep uphill : I used all my strength, 
but I could not get on, and was obliged continually 
to stop. This did not please my driver, and he laid 
his whip on badly. “Get on, you lazy fellow,” he 
said, “ or Til make you.” 

Again I started the heavy load, and struggled on a 
few yards ; again the whip came down, and again I 
struggled forward. The pain of that great cart whip 
was sharp, but my mind was hurt quite as much as 
my poor sides. To be punished and abused when I 
was doing my very best was so hard, it took the heart 
out of me. A third time he was flogging me cruelly, 
when a lady stepped quickly up to him, and said in a 
sweet, earnest voice — 

“Oh! pray do not whip your good horse any 
more ; I am sure he is doing all he can, and the road 
is very steep, I am sure he is doing his best” 

“ If doing his best won’t get this load up, he must 
do something more than his best ; that’s all I know, 
ma’am,” said Jakes. 

“ But is it not a very heavy load } ” she said. 

“Yes, yes, too heavy,” he said, “but that’s not my 
fault, the foreman came just as we were starting, and 
would have three hundredweight more put on to save 
him trouble, and I must get on with it as well as I 
can.” 

He was raising the whip again, when the lady 
said — 

“ Pray, stop, I think I can help you if you will let 
me.” 


243 


Jakes and the Lady. 

The man laughea. 

“You see,” she said, “you do not give him a fair 
chance ; he cannot use all his power with his head 
held back as it is with that bearing rein ; if you 
would take it off, I am sure he would do better — do 
try it,” she said persuasively, “ I should be very glad 
if you would.” 

“Well, well,” said Jakes, with a short laugh, 
“ anything to please a lady of course. How far 
would you wish it down, ma’am ? ” 

“ Quite down, give him his head altogether.” 

The rein was taken off, and in a moment I put my 
head down to my very knees. What a comfort it 
was ! Then I tossed it up and down several times to 
get the aching stiffness out of my neck. 

“ Poor fellow ! that is what you wanted,” said she, 
patting and stroking me with her gentle hand ; “ and 
now if you will speak kindly to him and lead him on, 
I believe he will be able to do better.” 

Jakes took the rein — “ Come on, Blackie.” I put 
down my head, and threw my whole weight against 
the collar ; I spared no strength ; the load moved on, 
and I pulled it steadily up the hill, and then stopped 
to take breath. 

The lady had walked along the footpath, and now 
came across into the road. She stroked and patted 
my neck, as I had not been patted for many a long 
day. 

“ You see he was quite willing when you gave him 
the chance ; I am sure he is a fine- tempered creature. 


244 


Black Beauty, 


and I dare say has known better days. You won’t 
put that rein on again, will you?” for he was just 
going to hitch it up on the old plan. 

“Well, ma’am, I can’t deny that having his head 
has helped him up the hill, and I’ll remember it 
another time, and thank you, ma’am ; but if he went 
without a bearing rein, I should be the laughing 
stock of all the carters ; it is the fashion, you see.” 

“ Is it not better,” she said, “ to lead a good fashion, 
than to follow a bad one ? A great many gentlemen 
do not use bearing reins now ; our carriage horses 
have not worn them for fifteen years, and work with 
much less fatigue than those who have them ; 
besides,” she added in a very serious voice, “ we have 
no right to distress any of God’s creatures without a 
very good reason ; we call them dumb animals, and 
so they are, for they cannot tell us how they feel, but 
they do not suffer less because they have no words. 
But I must not detain you now ; I thank you for 
trying my plan with your good horse, and I am sure 
you will find it far better than the whip. Good day,” 
and with another soft pat on my neck, she stepped 
lightly across the path, and I saw her no more. 

“That was a real lady. I’ll be bound for it,” said 
Jakes to himself; “she spoke just as polite as if I 
was a gentleman, and I’ll try her plan, uphill, at any 
rate ; ” and I must do him the justice to say, that he 
let my rein out several holes, and going uphill after 
that, he always gave me my head ; but the heavy 
loads went on. Good feed and fair rest will keep up 


245 


JaJces and the Lady. 

one’s strength under full work, but no horse can 
stand against overloading ; and I was getting so 
thoroughly pulled down from this cause, that a 
younger horse was bought in my place. I may as 
well mention here, what I suffered at this time from 
another cause. I had heard horses speak of it, but 
had never myself had experience of the evil ; this was 
a badly-lighted stable ; there was only one very 
small window at the end, and the consequence was 
that the stalls were almost dark. 

Besides the depressing effect this had on my spirits, 
it very much weakened my sight, and when I was 
suddenly brought out of the darkness into the glare 
of daylight, it was very painful to my eyes. Several 
times I stumbled over the threshold, and could 
scarcely see where I was going. 

I believe, had I stayed there very long, I should 
have become purblind, and that would have been a 
great misfortune, for I have heard men say, that a 
stone-blind horse was safer to drive than one which 
had imperfect sight, as it generally makes them very 
timid. However, I escaped without any permanent 
injury to my sight, and was sold to a large cab 
owner. 


CHAPTER XLVII. 


TIMES, 

I SHALL never forget my new master; he had 
black eyes and a hooked nose, his mouth was 
as full of teeth as a bull-dog’s, and his voice 
was as harsh as the grinding of cart wheels over 
gravel stones. His name was Nicholas Skinner, and 
I believe he was the same man that poor Seedy Sam 
drove for. 

I have heard men say, that seeing is believing ; but 
I should say that feeling is believing ; for much as I 
had seen before, I never knew till now the utter 
misery of a cab-horse’s life. 

Skinner had a low set of cabs and a low set of 
drivers ; he was hard on the men, and the men were 
hard on the horses. In this place we had no Sunday 
rest, and it was in the heat of summer. 

Sometimes on a Sunday morning, a party of fast 
men would hire the cab for the day ; four of them 
inside and another with the driver, and I had to take 
them ten or fifteen miles out into the country, and 
back again : never would any of them get down to 


Hard Times, 


247 


walk up a hill, let it be ever so steep, or the day ever 
so hot — unless indeed, when the driver was afraid I 
should not manage it, and sometimes I was so 
fevered and worn that I could hardly touch my food. 
How I used to long for the nice bran mash with nitre 
in it that Jerry used to give us on Saturday nights 
in hot weather, that used to cool us down and make 
us so comfortable. Then we had two nights and 
a whole day for unbroken rest, and on Monday 
morning we were as fresh as young horses again ; but 
here, there was no rest, and my driver was just as 
hard as his master. He had a cruel whip with 
something so sharp at the end that it sometimes 
drew blood, and he would even whip me under the 
belly, and flip the lash out at my head. Indignities 
like these took the heart out of me terribly, but still I 
did my best and never hung back ; for, as poor 
Ginger said, it was no use ; men are the strongest. 

My life was now so utterly wretched, that I wished 
I might, like Ginger, drop down dead at my work, 
and be out of my misery ; and one day my wish very 
nearly came to pass. 

I went on the stand at eight in the morning, and 
had done a good share of work, when we had to take 
a fare to the railway. A long train was just expected 
in, so my driver pulled up at the back of some of the 
outside cabs, to take the chance of a return fare. It 
was a very heavy train, and as all the cabs were soon 
engaged, ours was called for. There was a party of 
four ; a noisy, blustering man with a lady, a little boy. 


248 


Black Beauty. 


and a young girl, and a great deal of luggage. The 
lady and the boy got into the cab, and while the man 
ordered about the luggage, the young girl came and 
looked at me. 

“ Papa,” she said, “ I am sure this poor horse cannot 
take us and all our luggage so far, he is so very weak 
and worn out ; do look at him.” 

“Oh! he’s all right, miss,” said my driver, “he’s 
strong enough.” 

The porter, who was pulling about some heavy 
boxes, suggested to the gentleman, as there was so 
much luggage, whether he would not take a second 
cab. 

“Can your horse do it, or can’t he?” said the 
blustering man. 

“ Oh 1 he can do it all right, sir ; send up the boxes, 
porter : he could take more than that,” and he helped 
to haul up a box so heavy that I could feel the 
springs go down. 

“ Papa, papa, do take a second cab,” said the young 
girl in a beseeching tone ; “ I am sure we are wrong, 
I am sure it is very cruel.” 

“Nonsense, Grace, get in at once, and don’t make 
all this fuss ; a pretty thing it would be if a man of 
business had to examine every cab-horse before he 
hired it — the man knows his own business of course : 
there, get in and hold your tongue ! ” 

My gentle friend had to obey ; and box after box 
was dragged up and lodged on the top of the cab, or 
settled by the side of the driver. At last all was 


Hard Times. 


249 


ready, and with his usual jerk at the rein, and slash 
of the whip, he drove out of the station. 

The load was very heavy, and I had had neither 
food nor rest since the morning ; but I did my best, 
as I always had done, in spite of cruelty and 
injustice. 

I got along fairly till we came to Ludgate Hill, but 
there, the heavy load and my own exhaustion were 
too much. I was struggling to keep on, goaded by 
constant chucks of the rein and use of the whip, 
when, in a single moment — I cannot tell how — my 
feet slipped from under me, and I fell heavily to the 
ground on my side ; the suddenness and the force 
with which I fell, seemed to beat all the breath out of 
my body. I lay perfectly still ; indeed, I had no 
power to move, and I thought now I was going to 
die. I heard a sort of confusion round me, loud 
angry voices, and the getting down of the luggage, 
but it was all like a dream. I thought I heard that 
sweet pitiful voice saying, “ Oh ! that poor horse ! it 
is all our fault.” Some one came and loosened the 
throat strap of my bridle, and undid the traces which 
kept the collar so tight upon me. Some one said, 
“ He’s dead, he’ll never get up again.” Then I could 
hear a policeman giving orders, but I did not even 
open my eyes ; I could only draw a gasping breath 
now and then. Some cold water was thrown over 
my head, and some cordial was poured into my 
mouth, and something was covered over me. I 
cannot tell how long I lay there, but I found my life 


250 


Black Beauty. 


coming back, and a kind-voiced man was patting me 
and encouraging me to rise. After some more 
cordial had been given me, and after one or two 
attempts, I staggered to my feet, and was gently led 
to some stables which were close by. Here I was put 
into a well-littered stall, and some warm gruel was 
brought to me, which I drank thankfully. 

In the evening I was sufficiently recovered to be 
led back to Skinner’s stables, where I think they did 
the best for me they could. In the morning Skinner 
came with a farrier to look at me. He examined me 
very closely, and said — 

“ This is a case of overwork more than disease, and 
if you could give him a run off for six months, he 
would be able to work again ; but now there is not an 
ounce of strength in him.” 

“ Then he must just go to the dogs,” said Skinner, 
“ I have no meadows to nurse sick horses in — he 
might get well or he might not ; that sort of thing 
don’t suit my business, my plan is to work ’em as 
long as they’ll go, and then sell ’em for what they’ll 
fetch, at the knacker’s or elsewhere.” 

“If he was broken-winded,” said the farrier, “you 
had belter have him killed out of hand, but he is not ; 
there is a sale of horses coming off in about ten days ; 
if you rest him and feed him up, he may pick up, and 
you may get more than his skin is worth, at any 
rate.” 

Upon this advice, Skinner rather unwillingly, I 
think, gave orders that 1 should be well fed and cared 


Ha/rd Times, 


251 


for, and the stable man, happily for me, carried out 
the orders with a much better will than his master 
had in giving them. Ten days of perfect rest, plenty 
of good oats, hay, bran mashes, with boiled linseed 
mixed in them, did more to get up my condition than 
anything else could have done ; those linseed mashes 
were delicious, and I began to think, after all, it 
might be better to live than go to the dogs. When 
the twelfth day after the accident came, I was taken 
to the sale, a few miles out of London. I felt that 
any change from my present place must be an 
improvement, so I held up my head, and hoped for 
the best 


CHAPTER XLVIII. 


FARMER THOROUGHGOOD AND HIS GRANDSON 
WILLIE. 

A t this sale, of course I found myself in company 
with the old broken-down horses — some lame, 
some broken-winded, some old, and some that 
that I am sure it would have been merciful to 
shoot. 

The buyers and sellers too, many of them, looked 
not much better off than the poor beasts they were 
bargaining about. There were poor old men, trying 
to get a horse or pony for a few pounds, that might 
drag about some little wood or coal cart. There 
were poor men trying to sell a worn-out beast for two 
or three pounds, rather than have the greater loss of 
killing him. Some of them looked as if poverty and 
hard times had hardened them all over ; but there 
were others that I would have willingly used the last 
of my strength in serving ; poor and shabby, but kind 
and human, with voices that I could trust. There 
was one tottering old man that took a great fancy to 
me, and 1 to him, but I was not strong enough — it 


Farmer Thoroughgood, 253 

was an anxious time ! Coming from the better part 
of the fair, I noticed a man who looked like a 
gentleman farmer, with a young boy by his side ; he 
had a broad back and round shoulders, a kind, ruddy 
face, and he wore a broad-brimmed hat. When he 
came up to me and my companions, he stood still, 
and gave a pitiful look round upon us. I saw his eye 
rest on me ; I had still a good mane and tail, which 
did something for my appearance. I pricked my 
ears and looked at him. 

“There’s a horse, Willie, that has known better 
days.” 

“Poor old fellow!” said the boy, “do you think, 
grandpapa, he was ever a carriage horse ? ” 

“ Oh yes ! my boy,” said the farmer, coming closer, 
“ he might have been anything when he was young ; 
look at his nostrils and his ears, the shape of his neck 
and shoulder ; there’s a deal of breeding about that 
horse.” He put out his hand and gave me a kind pat 
on the neck. I put out my nose in answer to his 
kindness ; the boy stroked my face. 

“ Poor old fellow I see, grandpapa, how well he 
understands kindness. Could not you buy him 
and make him young again, as you did with 
Ladybird ? ” 

“ My dear boy, I can’t make all old horses young ; 
besides. Ladybird was not so very old, as she was run 
down and badly used.” 

“ Well, grandpapa, I don’t believe that this one is 
old ; look at his mane and tail. I wish you would 


2 54 BlacTc Beauty. 

look into his mouth, and then you could tell ; though 
he is so very thin, his eyes are not sunk like some old 
horses’.” 

The old gentleman laughed. “Bless the boy! he 
is as horsey as his old grandfather.” 

“But do look at his mouth, grandpapa, and ask 
the price ; I am sure he would grow young in our 
meadows.” 

The man who had brought me for sale now put in 
his word. 

“ The young gentleman’s a real knowing one, sir ; 
now the fact is, this ’ere hoss is just pulled down with 
overwork in the cabs ; he’s not an old one, and I 
heerd as how the vetenary should say, that a six 
months’ run off would set him right up, being as how 
his wind ‘ was not broken. I’ve had the tending of 
him these ten days past, and a gratefuller, pleasanter 
animal I never met with, and ’twould be worth a 
gentleman’s while to give a five-pound note for him, 
and let him have a chance. I’ll be bound he’d be 
worth twenty pounds next spring.” 

The old gentleman laughed, and the little boy 
looked up eagerly. 

“ Oh ! grandpapa, did you not say, the colt sold for 
five pounds more than you expected ? you would not 
be poorer if you did buy this one.” 

The farmer slowly felt my legs, which were much 
swelled and strained ; then he looked at my mouth — 
“ Thirteen or fourteen, I should say ; just trot him 
out, will you ? ” 


Farmer Thoroughgood. 255 

I arched my poor thin neck, raised my tail a little, 
and threw out my legs as well as I could, for they 
were very stiff. 

" What is the lowest you will take for him ? ” said 
the farmer as I came back. 

“Five pounds, sir; that was the lowest price my 
master set.” 

“’Tis a speculation,” said the old gentleman, 
shaking his head, but at the same time slowly 
drawing out his purse — “ quite a speculation ! Have 
you any more business here ? ” he said, counting the 
sovereigns into his hand. 

“ No, sir, I can take him for you to the inn, if you 
please.” 

“ Do so, I am now going there.” 

They walked forward, and I was led behind The 
boy could hardly control his delight, and the old 
gentleman seemed to enjoy his pleasure. I had a 
good feed at the inn, and was then gently ridden 
home by a servant of my new master’s and turned 
into a large meadow with a shed in one corner 
of it. 

Mr. Thoroughgood, for that was the name of my 
benefactor, gave orders that I should have hay and 
oats every night and morning, and the run of the 
meadow during the day, and “you, Willie,” said he, 
must take the oversight of him ; I give him in 
charge to you.” 

The boy was proud of his charge, and undertook it 
in all seriousness. There was not a day when he did 


256 


Black Beauty. 


not pay me a visit ; sometimes picking me out from 
amongst the other horses, and giving me a bit of 
carrot, or something good, or sometimes standing by 
me whilst I ate my oats. He always came with 
kind words and caresses, and of course I grew very 
fond of him. He called me Old Crony, as I used to 
come to him in the field and follow him about. 
Sometimes he brought his grandfather, who always 
looked closely at my legs — 

“ This is our point, Willie,” he would say ; “ but he 
is improving so steadily that I think we shall see a 
change for the better in the spring.” 

The perfect rest, the good food, the soft turf, 
and gentle exercise, soon began to tell on my 
condition and my spirits. I had a good constitution 
from my mother, and I was never strained when I 
was young, so that I had a better chance than many 
horses, who have been worked before they came 
to their full strength. During the winter my legs 
improved so much, that I began to feel quite 
young again. The spring came round, and one 
day in March, Mr. Thoroughgood determined that 
he would try me in the phaeton. I was well 
pleased, and he and Willie drove me a few miles. 
My legs were not stiff now, and I did the work with 
perfect ease. 

“ He’s growing young, Willie ; we must give him a 
little gentle work now, and by midsummer he will be 
as good as Ladybird : he has a beautiful mouth, and 
good paces, they can’t be better.” 







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Fa/rmer Thoroughgood, 257 

“Oh! grandpapa, how glad I am you bought 
him ! ” 

“ So am I, my boy, but he has to thank you more 
than me ; we must now be looking out for a quiet, 
genteel place for him, where he will be valued.” 


CHAPTER XLIX. 

MV LAST HOME. 

O NE day during this summer, the groom cleaned 
and dressed me with such extraordinary care, 
that I thought some new change must be at 
hand ; he trimmed my fetlocks and legs, passed the 
tarbrush over my hoofs, and even parted my forelock. 
I think the harness had an extra polish. Willie 
seemed half anxious, half merry, as he got into the 
chaise with his grandfather. 

“ If the ladies take to him,” said the old gentleman, 
“ they’ll be suited, and he’ll be suited : we can but 
try.” 

At the distance of a mile or two from the village, 
we came to a pretty, low house, with a lawn and 
shrubbery at the front, and a drive up to the door. 
Willie rang the bell, and asked if Miss Blomefield, or 
Miss Ellen was at home. Yes, they were. So, whilst 
Willie stayed with me, Mr. Thoroughgood went into 
the house. In about ten minutes he returned, followed 
by three ladies ; one tall, pale lady, wrapped in a 
white shawl, leaned on a younger lady, with dark eyes 


My Last Home, 


259 


and a merry face ; the other, a very stately-looking 
person, was Miss Blomefield. They all came and 
looked at me and asked questions. The younger 
lady — that was Miss Ellen — took to me very much ; 
she said she was sure she should like me, I had such 
a good face. The tall, pale lady said, that she should 
always be nervous in riding behind a horse that had 
once been down, as I might come down again, and if 
I did, she should never get over the fright. 

“You see, ladies,” said Mr. Thoroughgood, “ many 
first-rate horses have had their knees broken through 
the carelessness of their drivers, without any fault of 
their own, and from what I see of this horse, I should 
say, that is his case : but of course I do not wish to 
influence you. If you incline, you can have him on 
trial, and then your coachman will see what he thinks 
of him.” 

“You have always been such a good adviser to us 
about our horses,” said the stately lady, “ that your 
recommendation would go a long way with me, and if 
my sister Lavina sees no objection, we will accept 
your offer of a trial, with thanks.” 

It was then arranged that I should be sent for the 
next day. 

In the morning a smart-looking young man came 
for me ; at first, he looked pleased ; but when he saw 
my knees, he said in a disappointed voice — 

“ I didn’t think, sir, you would have recommended 
my ladies a blemished horse like that” 

“ Handsome is — that handsome does,” said my 


26 o 


Black Beauty, 


master ; ** you are only taking him on trial, and T am 
sure you will do fairly by him, young man, and if he 
is not as safe as any horse you ever drove, send him 
back.” 

I was led home, placed in a comfortable stable, fed, 
and left to myself The next day, when my groom 
was cleaning my face, he said — 

“ That is just like the star that Black Beauty had, 
he is much the same height too ; I wonder where he 
is now.” 

A little further on, he came to the place in my neck 
where I was bled, and where a little knot was left in 
the skin. He almost started, and began to look me 
over carefully, talking to himself. 

“ White star in the forehead, one white foot on the 
off side, this little knot just in that place;” then 
looking at the middle of my back — “and as I am 
alive, there is that little patch of white hair that John 
used to call ‘Beauty’s threepenny bit’ It must be 
Black Beauty ! Why, Beauty ! Beauty ! do you know 
me? little Joe Green, that almost killed you?” And 
he began patting and patting me as if he was quite 
overjoyed. 

I could not say that I remembered him, for now he 
was a fine grown young fellow, with black whiskers 
and a man’s voice, but I was sure he knew me, and 
that he was Joe Green, and I was very glad. I put 
my nose up to him, and tried to say that we were 
friends. I never saw a man so pleased. 

“ Give you a fair trial I I should think so indeed I 





26 i 


My Last Home. 

I wonder who the rascal was that broke your knees, 
my old Beauty! you must have been badly served 
out somewhere ; well, well, it won’t be my fault if you 
haven’t good times of it now. I wish John Manly 
was here to see you.” 

In the afternoon I was put into a low Park chair 
and brought to the door. Miss Ellen was going to 
try me, and Green went with her. I soon found 
that she was a good driver, and she seemed pleased 
with my paces. I heard Joe telling her about me, 
and that he was sure I was Squire Gordon’s old Black 
Beauty. 

When we returned, the other sisters came out to 
hear how I had behaved myself. She told them what 
she had just heard, and said — 

“ I shall certainly write to Mrs. Gordon, and tell her 
that her favourite horse has come to us. How pleased 
she will be I 

After this I was driven every day for a week or so, 
and as I appeared to be quite safe. Miss Lavinia at 
last ventured out in the small close carnage. After 
this it was quite decided to keep me and call me by 
my old name of “ Black Beauty.” 

I have now lived in this happy place a whole year. 
Joe is the best and kindest of grooms. My work is 
easy and pleasant, and I feel my strength and spirits 
all coming back again. Mr. Thoroughgood said to 
Joe the other day — 

“ In your place he will last till he is twenty years 
old — perhaps more.” 


262 


Black Beauty, 


Willie always speaks to me when he can, and treats 
me as his special friend. My ladies have promised 
that I shall never be sold, and so I have nothing to 
fear ; and here my story ends. My troubles are all 
over, and I am at home ; and often before I am quite 
awake, I fancy I am still in the orchard at Birtwick, 
standing with my old friends under the apple treea 


THE END. 


BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 
The Little Colonel Stories. By Annie 

Fellows Johnston. 

Being three “ Little Colonel” stories in the Cosy 
Corner Series, “ The Little Colonel,” “ Two Little 
Knights of Kentucky,” and “ The Giant Scissors,” put 
into a single volume, owing to the popular demand for a 
uniform series of the stories dealing with one of the 
most popular of juvenile heroines. 

I vol., large 121110, cloth decorative, fully illus- 
trated $1-50 

The Little Colonel’s House Party. 

By Annie Fellows Johnston. Illustrated by 
Louis Meynell. 

One vol., library i2mo, cloth, decorative cover $1.00 

The Little Colonel’s Holidays. By 

Annie Fellows Johnston. Illustrated by L. J. 
Bridgman. 

One vol., large i2mo, cloth, decorative cover . J^i.50 

The Little Colonel’s Hero. By Annie 

Fellows Johnston. Illustrated by E. B. Barry. 
One vol., large i2mo, cloth decorative, 

$1.20 net (postage extra) 

The Little Colonel at Boarding 

School. By Annie Fellows Johnston. Illus- 
trated by E. B. Barry. 

i vol., large 1 2mo, cloth . $1.20 (postage extra) 

Since the time of “ Little Women,” no juvenile heroine 
has been better beloved of her child readers than Mrs. 
Johnston’s “ Little Colonel.” Each succeeding book has 
been more popular than its predecessor, and now thou- 
sands of little readers wait patiently each year for the 
appearance of “ the new Little Colonel Book.” 


L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY'S 


Beautiful Joe’s Paradise ; or, the island 

OF Brotherly Love. A sequel to “ Beautiful Joe.” 
By Marshall Saunders, author of “ Beautiful Joe,” 
“ For His Country,” etc. With fifteen full-page plates 
and many decorations from drawings by Charles Liv- 
ingston Bull. ^ 

One vol., library i2mo, cloth decorative, 

$1.20 net^ postpaid, $1.32 

“ Will be immensely enjoyed by the boys and girls who 
read it.” — Pittsburg Gazette. 

“ Miss Saunders has put life, humor, action, and tenderness 
into her story. The book deserves to be a favorite.” — 
Chicago Record- Herald. 

“ This book revives the spirit of ‘ Beautiful Joe’ capitally. 
It is fairly riotous with fun, and as a whole is about as un- 
usual as anything in the animal book line that has seen the 
light. It is a book for juveniles — old and young.” — Phila- 
delphia Item. 

’Tilda Jane. By Marshall Saunders, author 
of “ Beautiful Joe,” etc. 

One vol., i2mo, fully illustrated, cloth, decorative 
cover $1.50 

“No more amusing and attractive child’s story has ap- 
peared for a long time than this quaint and curious recital of 
the adventures of that pitiful and charming little runaway. 

“ It is one of those exquisitely simple and truthful books 
that win and charm the reader, and I did not put it down 
until I had finished it — honest! And I am sure that every 
one, young or old, who reads will be proud and happy to 
make the acquaintance of the delicious waif. 

“ I cannot think of any better book for children than this. 
I commend it unreservedly.” — Cyrus Townsend Brady. 

The Story of the Qraveleys. By mar- 
shall Saunders, author of “ Beautiful Joe’s Para- 
dise,” “ ’Tilda Jane,” etc. 

Library i2mo, cloth decorative, illustrated by E. B. 
Barry .... $1.20 net (postage extra) 

Here we have the haps and mishaps, the trials and 
triumphs, of a delightful New England family, of whose 
devotion and sturdiness it will do the reader good to 
hear. From the kindly, serene-souled grandmother to 
the buoyant madcap, Berty, these Graveleys are folk of 
fibre and blood — genuine human beings. 


BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


3 


Little Lady Marjorie. By Frances Mar- 
garet Fox, author of “Farmer Brown and the 
Birds,” etc. 

1 2mo, cloth, illustrated . $1.20 (postage extra) 

A charming story for children between the ages of 
ten and fifteen years, with both heart and nature interest. 

The Sandman : his farm stories. By 

William J. Hopkins. With fifty illustrations by 
Ada Clendenin Williamson. 

One vol., large i2mo, decorative cover, 

$1.20 postpaid, $1.38 

“An amusing, original book, written for the benefit of 
children not more than six years old, is ‘ The Sandman : His 
Farm Stories.’ It should be one of the most popular of the 
year’s books for reading to small children.” — Buffalo Express. 

“ Mothers and fathers and kind elder sisters who take the 
little ones to bed and rack their brains for stories will find this 
book a treasure.” — Cleveland Leader. 

The Snndman : more farm stories. By 
William J. Hopkins, author of “The Sandman: 
His Farm Stories.” 

Library i2mo, cloth decorative, fully illustrated, 

$1.20 net (postage extra) 
Mr. Hopkins’s first essay at bedtime stories has met 
with such approval that this second book of “ Sandman” 
tales has been issued for scores of eager children. Life 
on the farm, and out-of-doors, will be portrayed in his 
inimitable manner, and many a little one will hail the 
bedtime season as one of delight. 

A Puritan Knight Errant. By edith 

Robinson, author of “ A Little Puritan Pioneer,” “ A 
Little Puritan’s First Christmas,” “ A Little Puritan 
Rebel,” etc. 

Library i2mo, cloth decorative, illustrated, 

$1.20 net (postage extra) 
The charm of style and historical value of Miss 
Robinson’s previous stories of child life in Puritan days 
have brought them wide popularity. Her latest and 
most important book appeals to a large juvenile public. 
The “ knight errant ” of this story is a little Don Quixote, 
whose trials and their ultimate outcome will prove 
deeply interesting to their reader. 


4 


L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY’S 


The Great Scoop. By Molly Elliot Sea- 

well, author of “ Little Jarvis,” “ Laurie Vane,” etc. 
i2mo, cloth, with illustrations . . . $i.oo 

A capital tale of newspaper life in a big city, and of 
a bright, enterprising, likable youngster employed therein. 
Every boy with an ounce of true boyish blood in him 
will have the time of his life in reading how Dick Hen- 
shaw entered the newspaper business, and how he 
secured “ the great scoop.” 


Flip’s “ Islands of Providence.” By 

Annie Fellows Johnston, author of “Asa 
Holmes,” “ The Little Colonel,” etc. 
i2mo, cloth, with illustrations . . . $i.oo 

In this book the author of “ The Little Colonel ” and 
her girl friends and companions shows that she is 
equally at home in telling a tale in which the leading 
character is a boy, and in describing his troubles and 
triumphs in a way that will enhance her reputation as a 
skilled and sympathetic writer of stories for children. 


Songs and Rhymes for the Little 

Ones. Compiled by Mary Whitney Morri- 

SON (Jenny Wallis). 

New edition, with an introduction by Mrs. A. D. T. 
Whitney and eight illustrations. 

One vol., large i2mo, cloth decorative . . $i.oo 

No better description of this admirable book can be 
given than Mrs. Whitney’s happy introduction; 

“ One might almost as well offer June roses with the 
assurance of their sweetness, as to present this lovely 
little gathering of verse, which announces itself, like 
them, by its deliciousness. Yet, as Mrs. Morrison’s 
charming volume has long been a delight to me, I am 
only too happy to link my name with its new and en- 
riched form in this slight way, and simply declare that it 
is to me the most bewitching book of songs for little 
people that I have ever known.” 


BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


5 


PHYLLIS^ FIELD FRIENDS SERIES 

By LENORE E. MULETS 

Four vols., cloth decorative, illustrated. Sold sepa- 
rately, or as a set. 

Per volume $0.80 net 

Per set $3.20 net 

1 . Insect Stories; 

2. Stories of Little Animals. 

3. Flower Stories. 

4. Bird Stories. 

In this series of four little Nature books, it is the 
author’s intention so to present to the child reader the 
facts about each particular flower, insect, bird, or 
animal, in story form, as to make delightful reading of 
the facts of science, which the child is to verify through 
his field lessons and experiences. Classical legends, 
myths, poems and songs are so presented as to correlate 
fully with these lessons, to which the excellent illustra- 
tions are no little help. 

THE WOODRANGER TALES 

By G. WALDO BROWNE 

The Woodranger. 

The Young Qunbearer. 

The Hero of the Hills. 

Each I vol., large i2mo, cloth, decorative 
cover, illustrated, per volume . . . . ^ 5 i.oo 

Three vols., boxed, per set .... $3.00 

“The Woodranger Tales,” like the “Pathfinder 
Tales” of J. Fenimore Cooper, combine historical in- 
formation relating to early pioneer days in America with 
interesting adventures in the backwoods. Although the 
same characters are continued throughout the series, 
each book is complete in itself, and while based strictly 
on historical facts, is an interesting and exciting tale of 
adventure which will delight all boys and be by no means 
unwelcome to their elders. 


6 


L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY'S 


The Rosamond Tales. By Cuyler Reyn- 
olds, With 30 full-page illustrations from original 
photographs, and with a frontispiece from a drawing 
by Maud Humphreys. 

One vol, large i2mo, cloth decorative . . $1.50 

These are just the bedtime stories that children always 
ask for, but do not always get. Rosamond and Rosa- 
lind are the hero and heroine of many happy adventures 
in town and on their grandfather’s farm ; and the happy 
listeners to their story will unconsciously absorb a vast 
amount of interesting knowledge of birds, animals, and 
flowers. The book will be a boon to tired mothers, and 
a delight to wide-awake children. 


Larry Hudson’s Ambition. By James 

Otis, author of “ Toby Tyler,” etc. Illustrated by 
Eliot Keen. 

One vol., library i2mo, cloth, decorative cover, $1.25 
James Otis, who has delighted the juvenile public 
with so many popular stories, has written the story of 
the rise of the bootblack Larry. Larry is not only 
capable of holding his own and coming out with flying 
colors in the amusing adventures wherein he befriends 
the family of good Deacon Doak; he also has the 
signal ability to know what he wants and to understand 
that hard work is necessary to win. 


BldCk Beauty X the autobiography of a 

Horse. By Anna Sewell. New Illustrated 
Edition. With nineteen full-page drawings by Wini- 
fred Austin. 

One vol., large i2mo, cloth decorative, gilt top, $1.25 
There have been many editions of this classic, but we 
confidently offer this one as the most appropriate and 
handsome yet produced. The illustrations are of special 
value and beauty. Miss Austin is a lover of horses, and 
has delighted in tracing with her pen the beauty and 
grace of the noble animal. 


BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


7 


The Story of Kate. A Tale of California 
Life for Girls. By Pauline Bradford Mackie. 
Illustrations by L. J. Bridgman. 

One vol., library i2mo, cloth, 

$1.20 net, postpaid, $1.32 
“ One of the most charming books of the season for girls, 
is this, with its lovable characters and entertaining adven- 
tures.” — Albany Times Union. 

“ Pauline Bradford Mackie’s new story is one of genuine 
delight, and scarcely a better volume could be purchased for 
girls.” — Boston Journal. 

Ye Lyttle Salem Maide : A Story of 
Witchcraft. By Pauline Bradford Mackie. 
New Illustrated Edition. 

One vol., large i2mo, cloth, gilt top . . $1.50 

“ The beauty of the story lies in its simplicity and pathos 
mingled with the lighter vein of humor.” — Toledo Blade. 

“No one can read the story without being profoundly 
stirred.” — Baltimore Herald. 

“Full of color and fine feeling.” — Albany Argus. 

In Kings’ Houses : a tale of the days of 
Queen Anne. By Julia C. R. Dorr. New Illus- 
trated Edition. 

One vol., large i2mo, cloth, gilt top . . $1.50 

“We close the book with a wish that the author may write 
more of the history of England, which she knows so well.” — 
Bookman, New York. 

“ A story with a charm that will hardly be withstood.” — 
Kansas City Times. 

“A fine, strong story which it is a relief to come upon. 
Related with charming simple art.” — Public Ledger, Phila- 
delphia. 

Gulliver’s Bird Book. Being the Newly 
Discovered Strange Adventures of Lemuel 
Gulliver, Now for the First Time Described 
AND Illustrated. By L. J. Bridgman, author of 
“ Mother Goose and Her Wild Beast Show,” etc. 
With upwards of 100 illustrations in color, large 

quarto, cloth $i*SO 

This is a most amusing and original book, illustrated 
with startlingly odd and clever drawings. “ Gulliver’s 
Bird Book ” will prove a source of entertainment to 
children of all ages, and should prove one of the leading 
color juveniles of the season. 


THE LITTLE COUSIN SERIES 

The most delightful and interesting accounts possible 
of child-life in other lands, filled with quaint sayings^ 
doings, and adventures. 

Each I vol., i2mo, decorative cover, cloth, with six 
full-page illustrations in color by L. J. Bridgman. 

Price per volume . . $0.50 net^ postpaid $0.56 

“ Juveniles will get a whole world of pleasure and instruc- 
tion out of Mary Hazelton Wade’s Little Cousin Series, r-. . 
Pleasing narratives give pictures of the little folk in the far- 
away lands in their duties and pleasures, showing their odd 
ways of playing, studying, their queer homes, clothes, and 
playthings. . . . The style of the stories is all that can be 
desired for entertainment, the author describing things in a 
very real and delightful fashion.” — Detroit News- Tribune. 

By MARY HAZELTON WADE 

Our Little Swiss Cousin. 

Our Little Norwegian Cousin. 

Our Little Italian Cousin. 

Our Little Siamese Cousin. 

Our Little Cuban Cousin. 

Our Little Hawaiian Cousin. 

Our Little Eskimo Cousin. 

Our Little Philippine Cousin. 

Our Little Porto Rican Cousin. 

Our Little African Cousin. 

Our Little Japanese Cousin. 

Our Little Brown Cousin. 

Our Little Indian Cousin. 

Our Little Russian Cousin. 

By ISAAC HE A DIANE TAYLOR 

Our Little Chinese Cousin. 


COSY CORNER SERIES 


It is the intention of the publishers that this series shall 
contain only the very highest and purest literature, — 
stories that shall not only appeal to the children them- 
selves, but be appreciated by all those who feel with 
them in their joys and sorrows, — stories that shall be 
most particularly adapted for reading aloud in the 
family circle. 

The numerous illustrations in each book are by well- 
known artists, and each volume has a separate attract- 
ive cover design. 

Each, I vol., i6mo, cloth I0.50 

By ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON 

The Little Colonel. 

The scene of this story is laid in Kentucky. Its 
heroine is a small girl, who is known as the Little 
Colonel, on account of her fancied resemblance to an 
old-school Southern gentleman, whose fine estate and 
old family are famous in the region. This old Colonel 
proves to be the grandfather of the child. 

The Qiant Scissors. 

This is the story of Joyce and of her adventures in 
France, — the wonderful house with the gate of The 
Giant Scissors, Jules, her little playmate. Sister Denisa, 
the- cruel Brossard, and her dear Aunt Kate. Joyce is 
a great friend of the Little Colonel, and in later volumes 
shares with her the delightful experiences of the “ House 
Party ” and the “ Holidays.’* 


2 


L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY'S 


By ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON {^Continued) 

Two Little Knights of Kentucky, 

Who Were the Little Colonel’s Neighbors. 
In this volume the Little Colonel returns to us like an 
old friend, but with added grace and charm. She is 
not, however, the central figure of the story, that place 
being taken by the “ two little knights.” 

Cicely and Other Stories for Girls. 

The readers of Mrs. Johnston’s charming juveniles 
will be glad to learn of the issue of this volume for 
young people, written in the author’s sympathetic and 
entertaining manner. 

Aunt ’Liza’s Hero and Other Stories. 

A collection of six bright little stories, which will 
appeal to all boys and most girls. 

Big Brother. 

A story of two boys. The devotion and care of 
Steven, himself a small boy, for his baby brother, is the 
theme of the simple tale, the pathos and beauty of which 
has appealed to so many thousands. 

Ole riammy’s Torment. 

“Ole Mammy’s Torment” has been fitly called “a 
classic of Southern life.” It relates the haps and mis- 
haps of a small negro lad, and tells how he was led by 
love and kindness to a knowledge of the right. 

The Story of Dago. 

In this story Mrs. Johnston relates the story of Dago, 
a pet monkey, owned jointly by two brothers. Dago 
tells his own story, and the account of his haps and mis- 
haps is both interesting and amusing. 


COSY CORNER SERIES 


3 


By EDITH ROBINSON 

A Little Puritan’s First Christmas. 

A story of Colonial times in Boston, telling how 
Christmas was invented by Betty Sewall, a typical child 
of the Puritans, aided by her brother Sam. 

A Little Daughter of Liberty. 

The author’s motive for this story is well indicated by 
a quotation from her introduction, as follows : 

“ One ride is memorable in the early history of the 
American Revolution, the well-known ride of Paul 
Revere. Equally deserving of commendation is another 
ride, — untold in verse or story, its records preserved 
only in family papers or shadowy legend, the ride of 
Anthony Severn was no less historic in its action or 
memorable in its consequences.” 

A Loyal Little Haid. 

A delightful and interesting story of Revolutionary 
days, in which the child heroine, Betsey Schuyler, 
renders important services to George Washington. 

A Little Puritan Rebel. 

Like Miss Robinson’s successful story of “ A Loyal 
Little Maid,” this is another historical tale of a real girl, 
during the time when the gallant Sir Harry Vane was 
governor of Massachusetts. 

A Little Puritan Pioneer. 

The scene of this story is laid in the Puritan settle- 
ment at Charlestown. The little girl heroine adds 
another to the list of favorites so well known to the 
young people. 

A Little Puritan Bound Girl. 

A Story of Boston in Puritan days, which is of great 
interest to youthful readers. 


4 


Z. C. PAGE AND COMPANY'S 


By QUID A (Louise de la Ramde) 

A Dog of Flanders : a Christmas Story. 
Too well and favorably known to require description. 

The Niirnberg Stove. 

This beautiful story has never before been published 
at a popular price. 

A Provence Rose. 

A story perfect in sweetness and in grace. 

Findeikind. 

A charming story about a little Swiss herdsman. 

By MISS MULOCK 

The Little Lame Prince. 

A delightful story of a little boy who has many adven- 
tures by means of the magic gifts of his fairy godmother. 

Adventures of a Brownie. 

The story of a household elf who torments the cook 
and gardener, but is a constant joy and delight to the 
children who love and trust him. 

His Little Mother. 

Miss Mulock’s short stories for children are a constant 
source of delight to them, and “ His Little Mother,” in 
this new and attractive dress, will be welcomed by hosts 
of youthful readers. 

Little Sunshine’s Holiday. 

An attractive story of a summer outing. “ Little Sun- 
shine ” is another of those beautiful child-characters for 
which Miss Mulock is so justly famous. 











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